She Hates Me
by nikkisixirresistiblebitch
Summary: AU  Follow-up to "No More I Love You's"; Bonnie deals with the aftermath of regaining her memories and her sustained attraction to Damon despite being disillusioned with him.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **She Hates Me  
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**Synopsis:** (AU) Follow-up to "No More I Love You's"; Bonnie deals with the aftermath or regaining her members and her sustained attraction to Damon despite being disillusioned with him.

Rated: **PG-13 – Hard R/M (depending on the chapter)**

Pairings: mainly **Bonnie/Damon**, Elena/Stefan.

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**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed my stories so far. Your support is greatly appreciated.**

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_Sometimes you are attracted to the worst kind of person_

**Chapter One**

Damon lets the warm liquid gush between his lips, glide over his teeth and swish around his tongue.

He has this system where he counts:

One

Two

Three

Then pull the blood straight into his open mouth.

He has gotten rather sloppy during the years, not caring if the blood stained his cheeks, or ran down his chin.

Perhaps it was his way of rebelling against the idea that he's not supposed to play with his food.

The girl wiggles under him, a cross between trying to escape and trying to get closer to the teeth embedded in her neck.

Damon didn't see this young woman for the individual she was, he didn't care for her name or life story. What she represented for him was a chance to work things out in his own head.

He whispers to her, his mouth pressed against her mouth, the taste of her own blood unable to wake her out of her compelled compliance.

He tells her things that she can't begin to understand but she smiles and nods, and tries to return the affection that he has bestowed upon her.

* * *

Bonnie swears off dating because it's the most sensible thing she can do at this moment. She buries herself in ancient books: folklore, grimoires, and the like. She attempts to attain ancient powers and she gives thanks to whoever is up there listening that she has survived another day.

This _honesty policy_ thing, however... that might be the end of her.

"_Honesty policy:_ sometimes I find it difficult to control my strength when Matt and I are, you know..." Caroline says in a way that makes it apparent that if she could still blush she would.

"We don't have to talk about this." Bonnie offers, shifting her school books from one arm to the other.

Caroline glanced around; the students of Mystic Fall public high school too busy in their own little worlds to pay attention to the tall blond and her shorter, brunette companion.

"I tried to talk to Stefan because he knows what it feels like to be a million times stronger than the person you're dating but he totally wigged out on me."

Bonnie could see how trying to talk to Stefan about sex might not go as well as expected.

"What seems to be the problem?" Bonnie decided that she will run the risk of hearing too much information in order to help her dear friend.

"Sometimes when I'm on top I feel like I'm going to break him." Caroline confides.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, "Yeah, I can't help with you that," Bonnie responds.

Caroline considers her friends response, "Oh. Do think Elena would know what to do?"

* * *

Women become a much too boring pastime and alcohol, although a nice diversion, leaves Damon's thoughts too fuddled to work through.

Luckily, baddies from every which way decide that Mystic Falls is the perfect place to make a name for one's self.

It's disgusting, really, how easily some of them fail at their own carefully laid out plans. How easy it is to trick, mold, and confuse.

That's not to say that every victory hasn't been hard-won or that there was never a moment when Damon didn't think about which side he was fighting on.

There is no real choice: Damon will likely choose which ever side Stefan is on.

That fact brings little comfort, especially if they lose.

Hence, they get together and pace in the Salvatore residence, coming up with plans with a million holes in them, and by some grace Damon's no longer sure he believes in, he wakes up day after day with all of his appendages in tact.

The meetings are all the same: Alaric says something, and although it's a more than logical argument, Damon bites his tongue from concluding that it's the dumbest idea he has ever heard.

He steals glances at Bonnie, whose face is too neutral not to be thinking the same thing, and he wonders if he could take back the mistake of telling her that everything he's ever done so far has been about Elena.

It's so much bigger than that, now. His world is no longer focused on the unattainable love of his ex-girlfriend's doppelganger.

It not like Bonnie would believe him anyway.

Instead, Damon uses this precious time to scoff at everyone's safe plans, and come up with disastrous strategies that only seem to work because they are so ridiculous.

He uses this time to remind Bonnie with every haughty gesture, and bawdy wink that he knows what she looks like naked.

An unofficial break is called and they all stroll around the boarding house and pretend not to be thinking about blood and death.

Damon saddles up to Bonnie like a rogue cowboy who has too much swagger for his own good and Bonnie doesn't want to have to deal with this.

"Do you think about it?" Damon asks as if she is supposed to know what he's referring to.

She wishes she had no clue but the mention of "it" brings up images of skin and heat and she is suddenly so helpless to the throbbing that has started low in her stomach.

Bonnie wonders if she can get away with using nonchalance, if she can she tap into her inner Damon and wear the fabric of disinterest like it's this year's fashion 'must have.'

She struggles to make her face as calm as it can be but she knows that somewhere she's breaking; somewhere, all she can think about is the few precious months that carried a simplicity she just can't have right now.

"I think about it." Damon says, staring at her so intently.

Bonnie shuns his statement and doesn't see a true admission for what it is, "I thought we agreed that we will forget about...it." Bonnie says pointedly.

She wonders if any of her so called friends will come to her rescue. Don't they see this maniac cornering her?

"No, you agreed. I didn't agree to shit," Damon responds, rebellious streak rising quick and fast.

"I can't do this with you," her lips speak but her feet stay planted right where they are.

"I liked you better when you were in a coma." Damon says. Something in him won't let him accept Bonnie's Zen demeanor without a fight.

"You're an imbecile," Bonnie responds, with less restraint than she had a moment ago.

Damon shrugs, "I've been called worse."

"You're an evil, conniving bastard."

"Again, not anything new," Damon conveyed with a boredom that would make the most excited person yawn in sympathy.

"When it dawned on me that I slept with you, I threw up. Twice."

Damon blinked rapidly, and for once he didn't care to disguise his hurt."That's a new one."

'Shit. Who knew Damon had feelings.' Bonnie thought.

Before Bonnie could find some way to take back what she said, the words sounding acerbic even to her own ears, Damon was already across the room, and everyone piles into the room to commence looking for a way to keep the one's they love safe, or at the very least, the quickest route out of this God forsaken town.

Bonnie realizes by Damon overly cool and aloof behavior that the insult runs deeper than she thought.

She has to apologize to him.

At this moment, she wouldn't be surprised to see a pig fly by.

* * *

Call her petty but she doesn't issue the apology immediately.

She waits until the next night when it's dark and sinister outside. She walks to the Salvatore boarding house and she enters the premises like she owns the place.

She hasn't lost that feeling of ownership and she wishes she could kick herself over it.

She opens Damon's bedroom door and the sight that greets her is not unlike the other times she has entered his room.

He shirtless and shoeless and his jeans are barely done-up. His hair looks as if someone has run their fingers all through it.

It's a plain as day to Bonnie and she doesn't need to hear the water running to know that there is a woman around here someplace.

The dull pain in Bonnie's temples is just a migraine not the green eyed monster rearing its ugly head.

"Don't you knock?" Damon slurs his words like he's binged on something truly indulgent.

He is relieved that the girl he brought home with him is in the bathroom somewhere scrubbing the caked and dried blood from her clothes and skin.

"I won't make this any more difficult then it already is. I'm sorry. What I said to you was uncalled for and even if you are vile, I shouldn't have said what I said."

She turns to leave, not bothering to hear Damon's response.

Damon takes it as a green light.

* * *

"If restraining orders worked on vampires, Bonnie would have slapped one on your ass a long time ago," Alaric says, laughing hardily at his own joke.

Damon sits drinking with the high school teacher in a bar where none of them will run into someone who has either had sex with Damon Salvatore, or failed a History class in the last five years.

It's a place for grownups who hate the world and Damon fits right in.

He fills Ric in on his late night exploits of watching a teenaged witch slip t-shirts over her head only to expose camisoles underneath. Or how Bonnie moans in her sleep because of dreams that leave her sweaty and aching.

And Alaric wishes he wasn't interested in listening because this girl sits in his class everyday and pretends he doesn't have any idea that she has the sort of powers that keep her delicate frame safe.

He wishes he could feel like a dirty old man and sometimes he does, but Damon is too entertaining not to pay attention to.

"She knows you're watching her." Alaric states, perceptiveness sounded out in every vowel.

"Probably," Damon shrugs in an easy manner that Alaric finds equally annoying and cool, "she always jumps into bed before she strips down to her underwear."

"Tease," Alaric affirms.

"You would know. How's Jenna?"

Alaric chokes on his beer just a little, "You tell me. She won't speak to me."

"Her loss." Damon says, with an absent mindedness that suggests he's thinking about something else.

"We're pinning over women who hate us," Alaric announces to no one in particular.

* * *

"You can't ask me to just drop everything and play chaperone to Damon." Bonnie insists, a crease of confusion between her eyebrows.

There weren't many people at Mystic Grill, and if it weren't for the staff, and an elderly man drinking coffee at the table in the corner, Bonnie and Stefan would be alone.

A few days ago, Alaric stumbled across knowledge of a book that heals all and kills everything. Damon volunteered to find it, the idea of a road trip appealing.

"Bonnie, I can't do it." Stefan says so softly that she momentarily forgets how, if pushed, Stefan could be the scariest thing on the planet.

Stefan wanted to stay here. He couldn't leave Elena.

"But why do I have to go with him?" Bonnie is aware that she might sound like a petulant child at the moment.

Stefan places his hands together, as if making peace with the world around him, "If Damon goes by himself he may get distracted."

It's not the worse thing he has said about his brother but it's the truest.

"You keep him in line," Stefan concludes.

Bonnie snorts, the air a short noise between her nose and mouth, "You're joking, right?"

Stefan thinks, wondering how much he should reveal, "What he feels for you keeps him in line. All of that time he spent with you wasn't an act."

"He said he did it for your girlfriend. If you can tell me that you honestly believe Damon is not in love with Elena then maybe I'll consider what you're asking me to do."

Bonnie watches the bunching and unbunching of Stefan's jaw, the muscles coiling under tight skin and she gets it; she gets why Elena is so damned crazy over the guy.

Stefan wants to tell Bonnie that Damon is in love with her but it's not in his place to tell.

He settles on "Damon...cares for Elena. He loves her, but it's not like before."

Bonnie doesn't know why that matters to her but it does.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A big thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed anything I've ever written****.**

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_It's exhilarating to pack up one's life and head out onto the road._

**Chapter Two**

The next few days are a preparation of sorts, and Bonnie is not proud of the lies that spill past her lips to placate her father.

Mr. Bennett gives her a look that makes it apparent that he knows she is lying but she gets the feeling that he knows how important this is to her, to her friends, to the entire town.

That is why he doesn't prevent her from going.

He makes no comment when she tells him some spiel about Caroline and Elena and how she won't be home for a few days.

More like weeks.

She never ventures into the possibility that she can be gone for longer and it's more for her own sake than her father's.

She tells the school that she's taking some kind of leave of absence but she's worked out this system that she'll turn in her assignments via what computer technology allows. Most of her teachers give their assent, and the only one who holds out is her Math teacher, who fumes and warns her that she is going to fail his class.

She never liked him much anyway.

She tries not to think about how difficult this trip will be. To be in a car alone with Damon for long stretches of time makes her chest burn with apprehension.

Other parts of her anatomy drum with excitement but she ignores it until the flames are stomped out and all that lingers is annoyance.

Every day, the memory of him and her is like a dream that Bonnie fights the conscious world to forget.

He was good at pretending, she'll give that to him. It seemed real and true, but how could that be?

She will never stop feeling like a sucker.

Jeremy walks around giving her these wounded eyes, and he wishes he were making the trip with her instead of Damon.

Damon laughs loudly at the idea, harsh: "Who's going to save who when shit hits the fan?" The two of them together, Jeremy and Bonnie, like bumbling idiots fighting the good fight.

He's right, of course and the group tell Jeremy so, in a much kinder manner; Stefan, with all the understanding of a man who wants to protect the woman he loves, and Elena, with the understanding that Bonnie being alone with Damon is not the best idea anyone can think of.

Alaric's mouth stays shut because he's got too much invested in these people to take sides.

Damon flourishes around like he's made his case.

* * *

Damon spends the week reminding everyone of his presence so as to not forget that Damon was here, in this town. He lives for the sole purpose of either making your life a living hell, or giving you the best moments of your life.

It's a toss up for Stefan because he's sure he can do without Damon if it ever comes to it, but he'd rather know that somewhere in the world Damon is alive, making enemies everywhere he lands. It's more comfortable than comforting and years of fighting and/or passiveness between the brothers have taught Stefan the difference.

"You will miss me," is what Damon says to anyone he passes; to Stefan, who makes no effort to disagree, to Elena, who tries and fails not to worry about her dear Salvatore friend, and to Katherine, who never understood how Damon turned out to be so much like her, but smiles at the thought anyway.

Maybe it was the 'Yes ma'am' training that Katherine gave him, the 'do what I say' culture that reared this wild and monstrous Damon; when he was just a human and she was so much more than just a pretty vampire girl.

They treat this road trip like it's a big deal because it is. Damon and Bonnie are bound to step on so many toes looking for a magic book.

* * *

Bonnie stares at the black, nondescript bag that carries her clothing and essentials while Caroline goes on and on about something as she bits viciously into a potato chip.

The girls decide to get together before the trip. They pile onto Bonnie's bed, half-sitting, half-laying, food being crammed into their mouths, crumbs covering their night-wear: the camisoles, the shorts, the socks; all casualties to cookies and snack bits.

"Are you coming over tomorrow?" Elena asks, her question directed to Bonnie. She knows the answer is yes but she has to ensure that she will see Bonnie one more time before she goes off in the unknown.

Bonnie will say her goodbye to her father in the morning before hand, hugging him tightly before he goes to work in the morning.

She is supposed to show up at the Gilbert residence tomorrow evening. Stefan will be there with directions and other pertinent information concerning the book. Damon will be there, and Bonnie thinks it's probably to look at his beloved Elena one more time before he's stuck in a car with the witch.

She'll say goodbye to Jeremy, and she knows he will put up a wall. He's been doing it for days now, distancing himself from her. He thinks it will make it easier to see her off but it won't.

"Yeah, I'll be there," Bonnie responds.

It's the only conversation the three young women have about the trip for the whole night.

* * *

Jenna makes turkey and cheese sandwiches on whole-grain, "Just in case you two get hungry and don't feel like stopping."

Bonnie is not sure what everyone has told Jenna about the trip, but she seems on board.

Stefan and Damon whisper to each other in the corner of the Gilbert living room.

Jeremy's mouth opens in fits like he's going to say something. Elena gives him these stern little looks, "Don't say anything, don't make this harder on Bonnie than it already is," she warned him before hand.

Traveling after sunset was Damon's idea. No particular reason other than the night being his favorite time in a twenty-four hour span.

Damon and Bonnie's bags are in the car already, and their stop at the Gilbert residence is out of procrastination and necessity.

"You'll call me, right? Not just when something bad happens." Elena asks an anxious Bonnie, the guarantee that it's 'when' not 'if' something terrible will happen.

Damon answers for the witch, "You can follow my hourly updates on twitter," already unwrapping of one of Jenna's sandwiches, his sharp, white teeth biting into the generous offering.

Bonnie thinks Damon would have made a wonderful Neanderthal.

After more chatting about nothing in particular, Damon announces, "We have to go."

He glances at Stefan with a nod of his head and an arrogant half-smile. He presses a kiss to Jenna's hand, and a kiss to Elena's cheek. He may have flipped the middle finger to Jeremy.

Elena holds on to Jeremy's arm and he seems to have had enough of it. He removes himself none-too-gently.

"Wait!" Jeremy calls out.

Bonnie spins around, only making it to the front porch and not much further.

"Take care of yourself," Jeremy says to her in a voice that melts something inside of her.

"I will. Hold down the fort while I'm gone," Bonnie responds.

Damon rolls his eyes at the exchange from where he stands near his car.

Jeremy takes her face in his hands and leans into her shorter frame, lips aiming for the side of her face.

Jeremy is hit by sudden inspiration and he kisses her right on the mouth.

He kisses her like he's going to war and this is the only kiss he will get in a long time.

Bonnie's system is jolted. His lips are full and warm but that's besides the point.

He pulls away before she has the chance to, and Bonnie huffs.

She wants to scream at him and maybe pinch him, but she halts the impulse because he's just scared like they all were.

She settles for a warning instead, "I'm going to break one of my rules. _Honesty policy_, if you ever do that again, I can't promise you that I won't hit you."

Jeremy smiles for the first time all week, not really hearing what Bonnie has said to him, mind still focused on the contact of their lips.

Bonnie walks away and get's into the car only to find Damon's fingers on the car keys, ignition alive and purring.

Damon looks at her like she's done something in bad taste.

"What?" Bonnie asks curiously, trying to think back to a time she's said something in the past few hours to have Damon look at her that way.

He doesn't comment, though, and he doesn't look at her again until they're out of Virginia.

* * *

Bonnie tries not to think about the last time she and Damon where in a car together. It's too raw to think about how ironically happy they were together at the time.

They drive past a 'Welcome to Goldsboro, North Carolina' sign and Bonnie wonders where the past three and a half hours have gone.

There is a silent, mutual agreement to stop at a diner because Jenna's sandwiches ceased being fulfilling.

The diner is nostalgic looking, with waxy fluorescent lights beaming down on truck drivers and traveling families.

Damon is sure that the person who originally owned the place is dead and buried, but the diner never closes out of spite.

The waitress is startlingly lovely looking, a blonde Jackie Onassis type and Bonnie wonders how she ever got stuck in a place like this.

"How can I help you all, tonight?," the waitress asks, except 'you all' sounds like 'y'all.'

Bonnie orders without looking at the dusty menu that no one ever uses because everyone orders burgers anyway.

Damon takes his time, glancing at the laminated menu, making eyes at the waitress. He doesn't bother to hide the fact that he's staring at the waitress' ass when she walks away.

They don't talk.

They don't talk before eating. They don't talk when the food arrives. They don't talk when Bonnie get's up to go to the lady's room.

She finishes her business and washes her hands, fingers wiggling through the water.

She hears shuffling outside the door and she figures that Damon is getting impatient.

Bonnie opens the door only to find a scraggy looking truck driver, all weather-roughened skin and hard beer-belly, standing with a lecherous smile on his face.

"How much?," he asks.

For a moment, Bonnie thinks that he can't be talking to her. But he smiles in her direction and there's nobody behind her.

She blinks and Damon is standing next to her in the tight space between the bathroom door and the hallway.

She leaves the two men standing there, something gleeful in her knowing that the truck driver must think Damon is some scrawny, pale wimp.

Bonnie spares a glance back at Damon, 'Don't kill him' the look says.

She goes to the counter of the diner only to find out that Damon has paid for their meals.

Not a second later, Damon joins her at the counter, licking the red stains from his lips.

The waitress doesn't seem to notice.

* * *

After nearly two hours, Damon doesn't want to drive any further. They end up in Wilmington, North Carolina.

Tomorrow they'll drive to St Stephen, South Carolina to talk to a local witch.

Damon doesn't make any witty remarks about St. Stephen, and Bonnie think that he may have decided to grow up. If only for tonight.

Motel six becomes the most convenient haven.

Bonnie is the one who proposes one room. Damon doesn't openly question the decision but his raised eyebrow suggests that he wants to.

"Its' better this way. If something happens, we'll know where the other is at all times," Bonnie reasons.

It makes perfect sense, and Damon wonders if he could have gotten away with suggesting the idea himself.

Inside the room there are two twin-sized beds.

Damon's irritation spikes. He waves her away when she says something, determining that it's probably nothing of importance.

Bonnie goes into the bathroom, dragging her bag along with her.

Damon barely responds, already on the phone with Stefan.

Once the door is closed she calls her father, Elena, and finally Caroline. She thinks about calling Jeremy but it would mean too much.

She strips off her clothing and steps under the shower. The water is pleasantly warm although too hot at times , before turning too cool like it can't make up it's mind.

She washes the traveling grime off her skin, the sweat from hot southern weather.

There's a moment where her mind is empty and it would be nothing to let her fingers quest just a little lower on body. But she remembers who is on the other side of the door.

Bonnie finds something to wear at the top compartment of her bag once she's out of the shower.

Damon's waiting patiently, and glides by her into the bathroom when she's finished, not touching more than necessary, not making her uncomfortable.

Bonnie decides that she'll thank him for helping her with the truck driver. Yes... she'll say thank you.

She takes a better look at the clothing that she's packed. The clothes are different than the ones she chose.

Her graciousness goes out the window.

It's slightly scantily clad clothing in that innocent spring/summer way. Completely appropriate for hot, sticky climate.

She boils for the forty-five minutes that Damon is in the bathroom.

When he come out, she ignores Damon's still wet skin, and the towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips, "I don't know how and I don't know when but someway you got into my bag and changed my clothes."

"I don't know what you're talking about" Damon says, looking her right in the eyes as he drops the towel.

Bonnie stays angry despite Damon's suddenly naked form, "I know it was you."

Damon bends down to look into his own bag, giving Bonnie a view of his firm backside. He gets his boxers on eventually, and the frustrated look on Bonnie's face is the icing on his cake.

"A bikini top doesn't qualify as a as a shirt," Bonnie tries, the anger somewhat cooled.

"It doesn't?," Damon asks with a feigned bewilderedness.

Bonnie let's the issue drop. She chooses the bed closest to the lamp.

Damon hesitates, standing in the space between the two beds. Her back is turned to him, the bedcovers over her head.

He takes a step closer to the bed where Bonnie lays, "Don't," she says, firm and unbending, "get into the bed _over there_."

Bonnie can't see how Damon responds to the command, the unreadable look in his eyes.

He loves girls who tell him what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

_She who walks with men understands the secrets of the universe_

**Chapter Three**

When Bonnie wakes up the next morning, she is frightened. She doesn't recognize her surroundings; the sheets don't feel like the one's she has slept on for most of her life.

She wonders if all of those past months were a dream and that in reality she is still stuck in the hospital.

For exactly thirty-six seconds, she thinks in circular thoughts.

"You can't lie in bed all day," Damon says, standing over her with a Styrofoam coffee cup in his hand. He's showered and dressed in fresh clothes but he looks too satisfied with himself and there's faint smell of perfume that Bonnie doesn't recognize.

She wonders who he has feed on.

"I'm getting up," Bonnie responds, the panic gone. She remembers where she is and with whom.

She does the same things she did last night before going to bed, right down to calling her father and friends. She finds shorts and a t-shirt and slips them on.

"Are you hungry?" Damon asks, distracted almost.

"No. Let's just go," she says even though she knows she'll regret that choice later.

The car ride is silent and Bonnie is okay with that. She starts to fiddle with the radio, and Damon doesn't stop her.

"You can make it for the next couple of hours without having anything?" Damon asks, attention split between the road, and her face.

It's on the tip of her tongue to ask him why he cares but she withholds the snide comment.

"I'm fine," she responds instead.

Although Damon continues to drive he doesn't believe she's fine, "Do you want water?"

"No. I don't want water."

"We are going to see another witch. Do you really want to go in there weak?"

Bonnie doesn't feel hungry or thirsty at the moment. She feels sad. Sometimes she gets these dark moods, a malaise of sorts where she can't bring herself to do anything. She never remembered having them before the accident but after, it's sometimes all she can do to get up and pretend everything is fine.

"I'll stop anywhere you want me to." Damon says, her silence disconcerting, not comfortable like before.

"I don't. Just keep driving."

"What if I'm hungry?" Damon tries, hoping now that the attention is focused on himself, Bonnie wouldn't shut down.

"If you're hungry, you can stop. But I thought you already ate."

Damon smiles a little, knowing that Bonnie is referring to a different kind of substance, "I meant people food. As amazing and enjoyable as blood is it's more out of necessity. I feel like having bacon."

"If you want to stop you can stop." Bonnie barely reacted to his enthusiasm regarding blood, and the mention of bacon did nothing for her appetite.

"We'll stop," he determines for both of them.

* * *

They do indeed find an IHOP™.

Damon orders food like he hasn't eaten for days. A fork is speared through his CINN-A-STACK™ pancakes before he comments, "Are you just going to watch me eat?"

Bonnie smiles a wide plastic smile, "It must be what your victims feel like, look at you snack away on them while they are forced to watch."

Damon calls her a bitch and Bonnie pretends not to hear.

"Order something," he insists, mouth overflowing with food.

"I told you I wasn't hungry."

"We may be a little too busy to stop later so eat something now," Damon adopts his most menacing stare.

"Shut up and eat your food." Bonnie commands.

Damon doesn't say much after that.

* * *

They make it to St. Stephen, South Carolina at 3:00pm, and Bonnie thinks they would have been there sooner if Damon hadn't made a stop.

Damon kills the car when they reach a house. Damon looks at the paper in his hands, scribbles of his brother's hand-writing, and looks back at the house.

"It's looks...old," Bonnie says because it's the first word to come to mind.

"This can't be the house," Damon responds. It doesn't look impressive in the least, and he doubts that an ancient book is hiding in there somewhere.

Damon gets out of the car, his phone already in his hands. He calls Stefan, that much Bonnie is sure of. He speaks so low that she can't hear what's being said. Damon grimaces at one point and Bonnie tears her eyes away.

She looks at her nails, the skin underneath, how healthy they look, fingers devoid of hard work.

Damon finishes his conversation, and goes around the car to open the door for Bonnie. "It's the house," is all he says.

They walk through a lawn that is turning brown even as the sun beams on it. The porch is next, and Bonnie almost trips, the wood is way too loose not to be a safety hazard.

A cool hand on her elbow keeps her upright, and Bonnie doesn't want to keep having to say thank you when she hasn't brought herself to say it the first time.

The door opens before either of them has a chance to knock.

The woman who answers the door is a strange kind of old. One really couldn't determine her age, the lines of her face seeming to shift with every blink.

"I'll talk to her but not to you," the woman says and Damon is only mildly offended.

Bonnie doesn't really want to go into this woman's home alone but her gut tells her that the woman won't hurt her.

The house is surprisingly better kept inside than outside, and she supposes it's because of magic. Looking at the house, Bonnie suddenly understands. The decaying outside is unassuming and won't draw much attention.

"Sit down, sit down," the woman urges, a friendly smile spreading across her face.

Bonnie sits on a chair that must have been an antique, it's carving and seat fabric not recognizable in any modern furniture design.

"Would you like some tea, girl," the woman asks and weirdly, Bonnie doesn't find the use of 'girl' insulting.

She is just a girl after all.

"Yes, please," Bonnie responds, trying desperately to remember all of the manners that southerners cling to so dearly.

The woman appears a moment later, tea in hand. Bonnie takes a sip of the tea, the flavors pleasing but undistinguishable.

"You put vervain in this?," Bonnie asks.

The woman nods, sipping her own cup of the concoction.

"Something else." Bonnie states, knowing that she'd be here all day if she were to guess.

"Yes, yes. Something to keep you strong," the woman responds with a wink.

Bonnie does feel immensely good all of a sudden. The melancholy that chewed up her morning was gone. Her body felt revitalized, she could run a marathon at a moment's notice.

"The book is not here," the old woman says.

"Where is it?"

"It moves around. Never stays in one place, never wants to be found." The woman speaks of it as if it's a human; real live flesh and bone.

"That boy out there..." the woman begins, wanting Bonnie's complete attention before she goes on, "that boy out there is way bad, too bad."

Bonnie doesn't have to guess that she speaking of Damon.

"But he don't know how to be another way. Too lazy to change. He's too young. Can you wait for him to grow up?"

"I―I don't know what you mean." Bonnie says.

"Right now, he's too tough. He hurts you when he tries to love you. There's too much junk in his head," the woman says in that old broken way.

"The book. We're here about the book."

"I know what you're here for," the woman responds, irritation creeping into her voice. "You don't listen, he don't listen. I don't have the book."

"Do you know anyone who may have it?"

"The book, the book. Too much dirt scrubbed over the name to be anything but a book. I knew a Bennett witch once. Yes, I did. I knew her. She knew herself. She embraced herself. You run, just like that boy outside. The two of you run together. I lived in Alabama once. That's where I saw it, that book."

Bonnie tightens her mouth. She would never dream of disrespecting her elders but how can she follow a lead based on something from years ago?

"So you saw it when you lived in Alabama. What year was that exactly?" Bonnie asks, still polite despite fraying nerves underneath.

"3 months ago," the woman responds with a smile too young for her face.

"But this house looks like it's been here for years, and you are―traveling at your age must be tiring," Bonnie responds, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"How old do you think I am, sweetie?"

* * *

"Let's go," Bonnie announces, as soon as she's out of the house.

"What did she say?" Damon asks.

Bonnie halts her steps, almost bumping into him in her short stop. "You didn't hear anything she said?"

Damon shakes his head, "I couldn't. It all sounded fuzzy. Must be a spell."

Bonnie nods in agreement, "That's not her real face either. She used a glamour: witches own brand of witness protection program."

"So you came out empty handed. She doesn't have the book."

"I get the feeling that other people maybe looking for it, too. This could get tricky. We're going to Alabama."

"The book is in Alabama?"

"Well, maybe. It moves."

Damon blinks very slowly at that statement, "It moves," Damon reiterated.

"Yep. So... we'll move with it."

* * *

"Alabama is a fucking seven hour drive," Damon complains.

"Oh Damon, where's your sense of adventure?," Bonnie jokes, more comfortable now then she ever was when she started this trip.

"What's wrong with you?" Damon asked, noticing the mood change.

"Nothing is wrong with me."

"Something's wrong with you," Damon keeps one hand on the steering wheel while he feels her forehead, her cheek for a fever, "You're not going to throw up are you? You can't throw up in this car."

Bonnie slaps his hand away, "I feel fine. I'm not nauseous or anything," although his hand felt wonderfully cool against her warm skin.

"I'm hungry." Damon announces.

"Seriously. Didn't you stuff your face at IHOP™?"

"That was a while ago. And I'm not that kind of hungry. Could you reach into that bag in the back?"

Bonnie was never squeamish around blood, except maybe her own. But she was in the majority because no one liked to see their blood splattered all over the place. "You want me to get you a blood bag?"

"Yeah," Damon takes his eyes off the road for a split second, "Be a trooper. I can't concentrate when blood lust is gnawing at my insides."

Bonnie needs no further prompting. She leans over the back of her car seat.

Damon eyes her round ass, the backs of her thighs, her smooth legs. Thus, he's too preoccupied to see a bag hurtling straight towards his face.

Bonnie gives him evil eyes because she knows he was being a pervert.

* * *

Damon stops at a gas station to refill.

Bonnie picks out ridiculous array of junk food: chips, mini donuts, beef jerky combo packs, among other things. She also picks up a six pack of Heineken because dessert wine is not an option.

Once the two are in the car again, Damon asks, "Do you want to keep driving or do you want to stop someplace?"

Bonnie thinks for a moment before answering, "Let's stop."

Damon drives from the gas station keeping his eyes peeled for a place to stay.

* * *

They find a cheeky looking Motel 6 in Augusta, Georgia.

A group of kids play in an outdoor pool while their father and mother look on, happy as clams.

"I'd like one room. Two beds, please." Bonnie asks to the plastic smiling motel representative.

After some rapid typing, clicking, and frowning, "I'm sorry. We have a room available but with one bed."

"That's fine, "Bonnie responds.

By the time she has retrieved the key and turns to face him, Damon has fixed his stunned expression.

"One room. One bed," Damon comments, cockiness invading the words and making them dirty suggestions.

Bonnie remains quiet, mind already on drinking her beer and watching crappy television.

In the room, they each make their calls home. Under any other circumstances, neither would call their loved one's so often, but these aren't normal circumstances.

There is constant danger from one source or another and it's imperative that one would call and check to see that everyone is alive and reasonably well.

Bonnie opens her first bottle of beer, when Damon announces that he's going to pick up dinner.

"Okay," Bonnie responds, "bring me something good."

The door closes and Bonnie relaxes, closing her eyes for a brief second.

She estimates that Damon will be gone for a while, may be enough time for her to do what she couldn't do when he was around.

Bonnie takes off her shorts, lie down on the bed, close her eyes, sticks her hand in her underwear, and think of England.

* * *

Damon returns to find Bonnie sitting on the bed, watching what is likely to be a terrible movie.

It's laughable that she thinks he wouldn't be able to know what she'd been doing while he was gone. Nothing could block out the smell of _her_.

Damon found a Ruby Tuesdays™, and ordered random things from the "Tue Go™" menu: Buffalo Shrimp, Lobster Mac 'n Cheese, Southwestern Spring Rolls, and Cheesecake for dessert. He figured she's bound to like something.

"How's the beer?" Damon asks.

Bonnie shrugs, gives an slightly skewed facial expression which is the universal sign for, 'Not bad.'

Bonnie has worked up an appetite, so it's no surprise that she monopolizes most of the food.

The conversation is light: the weather, finding the book, noisy kinds in the room next to them, the weather, crappy film on television, warm beer, the weather.

Bonnie is sure to die of consumption like in 'Jane Eyre.'

"What were you thinking about when you stuck your fingers inside your pussy?" Damon asks, almost conversationally, as if they were discussing the stock market.

Bonnie chokes on a spring roll, "I don't know what you're talking about.," she responds after an awkward coughing spasm.

"You don't know what I'm talking about," Damon parrots, mocking her with a smirk.

"I don't want to talk about it." Bonnie says, quickly stuffing her mouth with a buffalo shrimp.

"You know, if you're feeling...lonely, I could be of some assistance to you," Damon states carefully, with all the seriousness he can muster.

Bonnie resists the urge to laugh cruelly, "No, thanks," she stresses between tight teeth.

"Why not?" Damon presses on, "It doesn't have to mean anything. You know what I'm capable of. I'm not ticking you or anything. Go into it with your eyes open."

"I don't like you," she's not exactly lying as she says it.

"You don't have to like me. But you want me. And the more you deny it the more it will eat at you." Damon made 'eat' sound like a vulgar word.

"I want you?" Bonnie asks, not believing her own ears.

"Yeah. You want me. You want me like a woman wants a man. You're not that sanctimonious that you can escape desire. Lust."

Bonnie blinks. She can't figure out how they got to this conversation.

"No," she says finally. No to his proposal. No to his ideas. No.

"Okay," he responds sitting back into his chair, taking a swig of warm beer.

Bonnie thinks that he's better at hiding his disappointment than Jeremy is.

It must be all those years of burying emotion in an open grave.

That night, they sleep in the same bed, backs facing each other.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: A big 'thank you' to the readers! Your words of encouragement are much appreciated.**

* * *

_A lover's history is pertinent to any present relationship_

**Chapter Four**

Bonnie isn't sure what wakes her up first: the incessant quiet of the room, or the fact that arms that aren't hers are wrapped around her body.

It doesn't have to be said that Damon's strength is incomparable to hers. Even if he wasn't a vampire, he could easily over-power her.

Bonnie's petite stature is the reason self defense classes a welcomed idea.

She tries to wiggle out of his octopus hold. He grapples with her in a way that makes Bonnie think he may not be asleep after all. The slight wheezing of air from his nose is the only evidence that Damon is not yet awake.

She shoves her elbows into his side. The sharpness that digs into to Damon's oblique forces a strong exhale.

It's all very human; the way Damon rapidly blinks sleep out of his eyes, the blurriness finally focusing.

Damon has practiced this form for many, many years. He has learned that it freaks women out if he abruptly opens his eyes, seeming to be instantly aware of his faculties like most aren't first thing in the morning.

He tones down his vampire capabilities to avoid stupid questions and even more stupid frightened reactions.

He wonders how many aspects of himself he has assimilated to human culture.

"Hey," is all he says, like he wasn't draped across her, bound firmly together.

Bonnie decides that she doesn't want to make something out of nothing. She gets up from the bed and heads into the bathroom to begin her day.

* * *

They are in Alabama by early afternoon. There's no playing around, no jiving and Damon drives like the demon he is most of the time.

"Well, we're here. Where do we go?," Damon asks because while driving around aimlessly would be fine in a completely different situation, it becomes tedious.

"I'm not sure. It's... I'm supposed to _feel _something," Bonnie states, her own incredulity apparent.

"Do you feel anything yet?" Damon couldn't keep the impatience out of his voice even if he wanted to.

"I don't know. It was a very confusing conversation I had with the other witch. I'm supposed to have all of these instincts. I can't even read auras," Bonnie laments.

"Auras exist?" Damon asks, curious despite the level of absurdity this conversation has reached.

"Oh yeah. Totally. Dogs are pretty good at reading auras. Children, cats. Birds, too."

"So you're basically confessing that you are an incompetent witch?," Damon asks, not really believing his own words but wanting to annoy the young witch.

"I'm not incompetent. I'm a novice. Those are two different things," Bonnie defends.

"Whatever you say,_ Sabrina_."

* * *

"That's it. It's official. I'm never graduating high school." Elena announces, cocooned in sheets that smell like Stefan. The bigger bonus being Stefan in bed with her.

She doesn't know where the day has gone. She can recall showering. She can recall eating breakfast, toast and jelly, she thinks it was. Coffee, perhaps. She can't recall anything beyond the aforementioned events.

It was her and Stefan: before, after, during. Her and Stefan's bodies doing their best to meld into one thriving organism.

"We'll be Super Seniors together, babe," Stefan says, answer spoken along her shoulder.

"Do you think they're okay?" Elena asks, changing the subject. A small frown appearing as if considering the idea that somehow Damon and Bonnie were indeed in trouble.

"They are fine. I think they would tell us if something has gone wrong."

Elena lefts her head from the pillows, "Bonnie sounded... I can't really describe how she sounded but it wasn't her usual self."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Stefan responds, fingers combing through the lose strands of her hair, "Damon has a way of getting to people."

"When they come back, all of this ends." _This_ being Stefan and Elena alone together, with the exception of Katherine who has uncharacteristically made herself scarce. She'll still around of course, like a gray cloud hovering over the couple.

But there's only so many times Katherine can be forced to listen to the love of her life make love to her doppelganger. Katherine draws the line at that kind of self abuse. She and Damon different in that way.

"And then there's Jeremy to worry about," Elena continues, resting her head on Stefan's chest, too burned out for such deep thoughts.

Stefan rubs his hand over her back, for once deciding that no answer is the best answer.

"Stefan, let's leave them here, all of them. Lets run away." Elena says, a spontaneous thought too wonderful not to share.

"We can't leave. What will happen to Bonnie and Damon? They'll kill each other," Stefan responds, assuming his duty of being a good boyfriend by bringing Elena back down to earth.

"Better them then us." Elena huffs.

* * *

"This looks like the same road we've been driving on for the last hour." Damon voices. He was exaggerating of course, but he couldn't shake the vibe of wanting to give up and go home. They'll find another way to defeat the ever looming Klaus.

"Wait, Turn there!," Bonnie exclaims.

"Do you really know where we are supposed to go or are you just saying this so I won't...bite you, or something?," Damon teases.

"(A) I really have a strong sense that we are going the right way; and (B) If you even think about laying one finger on me, I'll ruin you."

"Why are you such a bitch?," Damon asks as if he'd really like to know the answer to that particular question.

Being slighted by Damon Salvatore is not high on Bonnie's list of favorite things. "Why are you such a moron?"

Damon attempts a different approach. They had reached a tenuous peace. He was aware of how often he has said things that has collapsed many precious things, "We're on the same side. You should feel honored to be in my presence."

Bonnie scoffs, his far-reaching ego the thing of legends. "I don't find using me to get to your brother's girlfriend honorable."

Damon stills, his hands locking around the steering wheel as if it has become the most important thing to focus on. Don't focus on the train wreck happening in the car.

Suddenly, he feels like one of those silly boys who likes a girl but can't tell her. He'll lose something of himself if he talks about his _feelings_, he knows he will. "You are never going to let me live down anything I've said to you, are you?," He doesn't look at her face while he asks. He can't.

"No. Why should I? You're Damon Salvatore. You always say what you mean anyway," Bonnie explains.

And it is accurate, in a way. Damon always had control over how people see him. Lest anyone get ideas about him that Damon will never be able to live up to.

"It looks better than the last house," Bonnie comments.

* * *

The two stood out side of a Victorian style mansion in Eutaw, Alabama.

"I hate people with new money," Damon criticizes.

"What makes you think the owner has new money?"

"It was renovated to look modern. It's supposed to be old. People with newly acquired money do dumb shit like deliberately buy a classically designed house only to modernize it. I bet anything that this house totally belongs to a witch."

"How very conscious of you," Bonnie responds, her strained grin easily mistaken for a baring of teeth.

"'Good cop'. 'Bad cop'. I call good cop!," Damon announces before walking up the path in front of Bonnie.

Bonnie catches up but Damon is already ringing the door bell.

While she resists the urge to give Damon an aneurysm or at the very least, step on his toes, a young, blonde woman answers door.

The girl couldn't have been more than eighteen, and there was a presence about her that indicated a brainlessness that Damon absolutely despised.

He supposed she was pretty enough in a pale eyes, pale skin, otherworldly sort of way.

The woman looks at them curiously, "You're not the pizza man," she assesses after a moment.

"How could you tell?," Damon asks under his breath.

"We would like to speak to the owner of the house. Please," Bonnie knows she's not being very 'bad cop' but things could go down hill rather quickly.

"Sure," the girl responds and Damon thinks there are just some people who are too stupid to live.

Bonnie steps inside then insists, "My friend here is such a gentleman. He won't step foot inside until you ask him to."

Damon nods. Bonnie gets points for the best plausible excuse he's heard in months.

"Oh, well. Sure! Please, come in."

Damon steps inside, noting that the young girl must have claim to the place if he can walk through with no hindrance.

The home is neat, if a little too museum-ish.

All of the items in the house looked to be acquired out of embellishment, and not out of true appreciation. The rugs, the lamps, the drapes, all tokens of wealth. All meticulous in the role of demonstrating how rich one was.

The girl leads them to the parlor.

"Damon!" a curvaceous red head calls out.

His eyes widen in surprise and alarm, "Tammy." memory hitting him square in the chest.

"Oh ma God! Damon, I haven't seen you since 1913. Come here give me a big hug!" Tammy doesn't wait until he responds. She throws herself into his arms, planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

Bonnie averts her eyes from the display, her attention settling on the young girl who let them in the home. Bonnie hadn't paid much attention to the girl's eyes but now that Bonnie takes the opportunity to look again, the young girl clearly looks to be compelled.

Untangling himself from the woman, Damon tries not to panic.

Tammy turns her focus to Bonnie, "Well isn't she the cutest thing. Where'd you pick her up?"

"Oh, here and there" Damon responds with a shrug, "Good, obedient pets are hard to find."

"Ain't that the truth. Sofie, here, can't even boil a cup of water. I can compel the hell out of her but she still can't cook worth a damn."

Her southern bell accent is high and grating, hollow with no substance. Bonnie wonders if Tammy was always like this or did it happen once she became a vampire.

Tammy circled around Bonnie with obvious interest.

"I don't share well," Damon feels the need to clarify. To say he did not like the way Tammy was looking at Bonnie is an understatement.

"Maybe we can work something out," Tammy suggests.

Bonnie doesn't scream or rave. She doesn't resist being appraised like a piece of grade-A meat. She understands that she and Damon have now entered a game.

One wrong move and you're likely to be dead.

"What brings you here?" Tammy asks, curious now that the particularities of the reunion are out of the way.

"Just looking for a little book. One very old book, a very powerful one." Damon delivers in a tone that manages not to raise and hackles.

"Why, you can't be talking about _my_ little book, are you?" Tammy asks, her lips tightening into something dangerous.

"I don't know. What kind of book do you have?," Damon retorts.

Tammy sighs, and shakes her head, "You have to be the fifth joker to come here looking for that thing."

"Really. I had no idea it was so popular," Damon responded, a feigned quizzical expression on his face.

"Cut the crap, darlin.' No one wants that book unless they want to heal something or kill something. Which one is it?" Tammy asks, her impatience making her accent more pronounced.

"Can't I just come visit any old friend?" Damon says, trying to gauge how much he can get over on Tammy.

Tammy makes an unflattering sound, somewhere between a snort and a grunt. "I like you Damon. I really do. So I'll wait until you tell me the real reason why you've come until you're ready. Where are you staying."

"Not far," Damon responds, figuring that he'll be able to find a place nearby.

"Why don't you stay here?" Tammy suggests.

Bonnie makes a short, startled sound. She has let Damon take control of the situation. But staying here would mean she'd have to pretend to be a pet to Damon. She didn't know if she could keep up that charade for long.

"That's a wonderful idea," Damon agrees.

He ignores Bonnie's glare.

* * *

"Why did you tell her that we'd stay!" Bonnie says, nearly screaming.

Once the two were a safe distance away from Tammy's mansion, Bonnie could not resists tearing into Damon.

"I have a plan," Damon states simply as if that fact alone with assuage Bonnie's temper.

He drove. Not toward any specific destination but he figured Bonnie would want to complain . He didn't want Tammy to overhear.

"What kind of plan?"

"We're going to kill her, then get the book."

Bonnie stared at Damon as if he grew an extra head "That plan has so many holes I can not even begin to count. First, we don't know where the book is and we can't kill her until we do. Second, you don't think she has minions somewhere just waiting to pounce."

"Pounce? Pounce? No one says 'pounce' anymore."

"You are going to get us killed."

"I'm a vampire, and you are a witch. You don't think we can handle this?"

"How old is Tammy?"

"Old. But not as old as me. I made her."

Bonnie considered this bit of news. "So what was she? An ex-girlfriend?

"Something likes that," Damon says, frowning because girlfriend is not the word he would describe what Tammy was to him.

"You must have cared about her." Bonnie guessed.

"No. She was a great lay."

"Why did you turned her?" Bonnie asks, not understanding Damon's motivation, and equally unsure that she wanted to.

"I was bored."

Bonnie didn't speak for a moment. She couldn't have just heard what she thought she heard, "You were bored. You turned her into a vampire because you were bored."

"Right. See, you do know me well."

"I still say staying with Tammy is a bad idea. But..." Bonnie let her pause linger on because it's not every day that she admits that Damon is right. "But, she's not going to give up the whereabouts of the book willingly."

"Tammy has it. Did you see how jittery she was?"

"Well, then you get the information out of her," Bonnie nods her head, almost convincing herself that this is a good strategy.

"You can't act like you did today," Damon says.

"How did I act? I didn't say anything," Bonnie insisted.

"You didn't have to say anything. There's this air of_judgeynessand pride that comes off of you in waves. You have to be demure. Obedient. You have to act like your sole purpose in life is to please me. We don't want her finding out that you are a witch."_

Bonnie looks away, squinting for more reasons than the bright sun. She hated the idea of being subservient to Damon. She abhorred it.

It made sense, though. She couldn't think of anything else.

"Okay," she says so quietly that Damon almost misses it.

"Okay, " Damon reiterates. "You have to let me touch you," he adds.

Bonnie nods because she expected as much.

"And you have to let me kiss you. Belittle you. Possibly humiliate you. Just so Tammy knows who's boss."

"You are going to take advantage of this situation, aren't you?" Bonnie didn't need to ask but she did anyway because she needed to hear it from the horse's mouth.

She didn't want any surprises.

"I won't do anything that you won't like," Damon promises.

While Bonnie contemplates the probability that this day could get worse, Damon pushes the accelerator pedal like he's pushed his luck most of his long life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings: Slight kink and BDSM elements (if you squint your eyes and cock your head to the side)**

* * *

_What a prince and a princess do in the privacy of their bedroom is no one's business_

**Chapter Five**

"I'm not wearing that," Bonnie states, clad in a black lace bra and matching underwear. Black high buckle leather boots completed the extent to which she was clothed.

Before returning to Tammy's mansion, Damon and Bonnie found an outdoor mall. Damon didn't think anything she packed would do for tonight's dinner so they ventured into a clothing boutique that held mostly clubbing outfits but with an edge that Damon found fascinating.

Standing here now, Bonnie seemed comfortable enough. She didn't attempt to cover herself with her hands, shielding her body from his assessing gaze.

Somewhere in her brain she has gotten used to having him around.

She liked the boots. They gave her length with tallness of the heels. She's still shorter than Damon, but for once, she won't feel so utterly towered over.

"You didn't complain while we were in the store." Damon says in a practiced bored tone.

"I wasn't paying much attention to what you were picking out," Bonnie responds, which is true enough.

On the clothing expedition, he tried to explain to Bonnie what being a pet entailed. If he were honest, he never much understood that concept. It was a strange mixture of coddling and cruelty from the master and naive servitude from the pet.

He compels a woman to do what he says. He enjoys that simplicity. Forging a codependent inequality that revolved around sex and submission was a subject Damon only mildly considered. He supposed his own relationships lacked an overwhelming sense of ownership since none of the women he loved ever truly belonged to him.

"Sophie is probably going to wear something with less fabric. Or nothing at all. Stop being a prude," Damon says.

Call a girl a prude and watch her go out of her way to prove she isn't.

"What about this?" Bonnie holds up a little slip of a dress. It's black, too; the material thin and clingy.

"I suppose it will have to do," he responds, sighing.

He should be more mindful of their conversation. Most didn't let his or her pet pick out what they wanted to wear but he was modern. Tammy wouldn't hold it against him, he's sure.

Bonnie puts on the dress. She walks past the bed, a lovely four poster. The bedroom they were in was sumptuous and expensively furnished.

It seemed that only Tammy and Sophie lived here, and the other bedrooms collected dust. It wasn't all that different from Stefan and Damon living in that big boarding house alone.

Damon stops her before she leaves the room, fingers around her elbow, "Remember what we talked about," he whispers low into her ear so Tammy won't overhear.

Bonnie nods her head once. She understands what she has to do.

* * *

The two enter the dining room and neither Tammy nor Sophie is there.

Tammy is such a bad hostess.

Damon makes himself comfortable in a chair, reaching over to pour himself a glass of wine from the bottle in the middle of the table. Assorted food is laid out on the table as well: slices of roast pork, roast chicken, bread, cheese, fresh fruit; things you could pick up with your fingers and still seem dainty.

Bonnie stands near him, wondering if it would be more humiliating to wait until Tammy is in the room to get on her knees or should she do it now with only Damon looking on.

He makes some sort of gesture with his hand, and Bonnie guesses that now would be better than when there is an audience.

Bonnie can't remember the last time she knelt. The cold, polished wood leaving an imprint that she is not sure she will forget.

Tammy and Sophie enter the room. As Damon guessed, Sophie was stark naked, white pearls around her neck; severe looking high heels arching her feet extraordinarily.

"Oh boy," Tammy drawls, "She's already assumed the position. I should have made Sophie walk in here on her hands and knees." Tammy winks at Bonnie and bids Sophie to follow her lead.

Sophie struggles to her knees. Damon thinks that Tammy may have to compel her again very soon. There's a spark of freewill that Tammy needs to keep in check.

"Clasp your hands behind your neck under your hair," Damon commands. Bonnie does it. No questions asked, no rolling of the eyes.

Tammy is impressed.

"Don't you know it took Sophie a full week to do that without blushing like a tomato."

Tammy drinks a glass of wine, already lifting slices of meat to her mouth; chewing slowly, watching Damon like a hawk.

"Are you ready to tell me why you've come?," she asks.

Damon picks up a grape, a soft popping sound emits as he pulls the fruit from its stem. He brings it to Bonnie's mouth, tapping the grape against her lips before she opens them.

She eats the grape, managing to look grateful and prudent. Damon thinks that he should have made her wear nothing like Sophie.

Tammy laughs a little at the display, "You're so soft Damon. You were never that soft with me."

"It's all about balance," Damon responds as if he knew what he was talking about.

He is quickly bored with Tammy and her 'play fetch' antics with the young girl. And poor Sophie, she doesn't know where to look, the urge to cover her body is strong.

The hand that isn't holding his glass of wine lefts Bonnie's hair, running the strands through his fingers. He has this crazed impulse to kiss her.

Damon slowly wraps her hair around his hand, a fist at the base, and pulls. The gasp that Bonnie makes goes straight to his cock.

He is aware that his hold on her hair looked tighter than it really felt.

He moves her closer to him by her hair, Bonnie's knees shuffling over the hardwood. He knows he is putting on a good show for Tammy but it's more for his benefit than hers.

Damon tilts her head, chin up, and presses his mouth to hers. He licks the seam of her lips, nips at the corners of her mouth. He doesn't miss the slight bobbing of her throat. She's nervous or excited. Probably both.

He tires of her on her knees. He let's go of her hair and pats his thigh. She gets up from her kneeling position and sits on his lap.

Tammy interrupts the moment. "Really? So Soon? I usually make Sophie earn it."

Damon throws a look her way. It's not friendly and Tammy smartly stays quiet.

He offers some wine for Bonnie to take, tipping the glass to her lips. Bonnie offers that same grateful, pleased look. Damon is beginning to think that Bonnie is a wonderful actress.

Damon feels bold. He is never one to curb his whims. He cups the heavy, pert weight of her breast through her little black dress, running a thumb over her nipple.

He presses a kiss to her cheek because it's all he can do to keep himself still.

"Should we give you some privacy?," Tammy asks. There's jealousy in her tone although Damon is unsure who she's jealous of.

Her wine glass had been filled again, and it's anyone's guess how many drinks she had before dinner.

"I have a better idea. Why don't I leave you with Bonnie?" Bonnie unfolds herself from Damon's lap and he stands up.

Tammy smiles a wide greedy smile. "What about Sophie?"

"I'll...entertain her," Damon assures.

"Fine," Tammy states, knowing full well that it's more than fine.

Damon leaves the room with Sophie in tow.

Tammy advances at once. She can't keep the pleasure off her face, "I knew you were special," she manages to say, handing reaching to twist a lock of Bonnie's hair around a finger.

Bonnie stares at her with a small smile on her face, feeling her power unleash with sweet, aching relief.

Tammy grabs her head, eyes wide with shock. The pain radiates from the back of her head to her frontal lobe, vessels bursting like miniature bombs.

Tammy drops to the ground as Damon reenters the room. He reaches them quickly, grabbing Tammy by the throat and lifting her like a rag doll. He sits her on the chair he sat earlier, kicking it away from the dining table.

"Where is Sophie?," Bonnie asks.

"She's preoccupied," Damon responds.

Bonnie gives him a look.

"I didn't kill her," Damon insists.

Tammy struggles, scratching at his hand around her neck. Her head still aches and she's disoriented.

"You really should be stronger than this," Damon states, tsk tsk tone clear, "You've been feeding from one source. Bad idea."

"I'll kill you," Tammy wheezes out.

Damon would have laughed in her face if he wasn't focused on other things, "What are you doing?," he asks Bonnie upon noticing her rummaging around.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm looking for the book."

"Can't you just do a locator spell?"

"That work's best on people. Pets, even. Not so well on inanimate objects. Besides, I would need some link from the original owner, and Tammy doesn't qualify."

"Right. Tammy, where's the book?" Damon asks, tightening his hand.

"Go to hell!"

"Wrong answer," Damon twists Tammy's head in an unnatural angle. "Where is the book?"

"It's not like she can answer you," Bonnie interjects.

Tammy struggles turn desperate, and Damon just wants to be done with it.

"Shit. We aren't getting anywhere." He pulls out the stake he slipped in his pocket before dinner, and stabs Tammy in the heart.

"We'll have better luck with Sophie," Damon comments, stepping over Tammy's ash remains.

He walks out of the dining room into a hallway that leads to a kitchen. Bonnie follows.

Sophie sits at the counter, chin trembling and unable to move from her spot.

Damon grabs the girl's shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. "Where's the book?"

"Can we not question her while she's naked?" Bonnie suggests, feeling sorry for the young woman.

Bonnie leaves the kitchen for a moment, only to come back with a throw-blanket that previously laid rather artistically on one of Tammy's couches.

She puts the blanket around Sophie's shoulders, "Where are you from?," Bonnie asks.

Sophie opens her mouth to answer only to be interrupted by Damon, "For all we know she could have been a runaway and if Tammy didn't find her, she'd probably hitchhike and prostitute her way through this great Western land. Book, first. You can save her later."

"Where's the book?" Damon asks Sophie.

"Between the m-mattress of her bed," she responds, grimacing a little.

Damon's heading out of the kitchen to retrieve the item before Sophie stops him, "But you can't take it! Tammy's keeping it for someone."

"Who?," Bonnie asks.

Sophie eyes shift, conflicted "I'm not suppose to say."

"Whoever it is will just have to come get it from me," Damon responds.

* * *

"You shouldn't have given her money," Damon admonished.

"It was only forty bucks. She needed it more than I did," Bonnie says, defending her choice.

With Tammy dead, Sophie didn't want to stay in the house, as grand as it was.

They had the book in their possession. Its small, beat-up frame and tattered pages hardly seemed like it was worth the trouble.

Damon thinks it will be much easier driving home with a clear destination.

No more wild goose chase.

Damon wants to get away from Alabama. Driving three hours to Tennessee seems the best idea.

The traffic wasn't so bad at night, and the weather wasn't quite as humid. Bonnie would like to believe she could now take a breath, relax.

She couldn't. Things were still so precarious.

"What are you thinking about so hard?," Damon asked, frowning.

Instead of telling him what was on her mind, she opts for a question that is likely to annoy him or at the very least, perplex him, "Why do you always wear black?"

"What?"

Perplexity it is.

"Why do you always wear black? Even Stefan wears color sometimes."

"I like black. You can't see blood on black clothing," Damon states.

"That's such a practical answer." Bonnie comments, absent of any judgment.

Damon is not sure if he likes her like this, not shaking in disgust, not berating him on his nature.

"Do you want to stop?," he asks.

He is aware that he's asked this question throughout their whole trip. Giving her the reigns, making sure she knows that she can stop or go anytime she wants.

Bonnie nods her head in assent.

* * *

They stop at a motel in Chattanooga, Tennessee. It's late. Real late, by the time they stop. More morning, than night.

One room, again. Two beds, the way Bonnie likes it.

The two enter into the room, and whether she surprised him truly of it he knew it all along, Damon finds back to the mattress, her knee pressed between his legs. He can't help but roll his hips into the pressure because he's much more comfortable with this role.

She's dangerous hovering over him, _"That_ will never happen again." _That_ being Bonnie acting as someone's pet.

Too soon, Bonnie moves away from him, beginning to remove earrings. She didn't change out of her clothing from earlier. Still wearing the little dress. Still wearing the boots.

Damon remains on the bed, laying on his side, staring at the witch in front of him. He wonders what she'll take off first: her dress or her boots. She heads for the dress and Damon is a happy man.

He eyes the black lace of her undergarments, at the leather encasing her feet and lower legs, and must do something. He can't not do something.

In a swift movement, Damon's off the bed. He hoists her up, sitting her on the little table with the lamp perched on top. Bonnie makes a noise, a little squeak that he'd like to eat right out of her mouth.

Damon lowers himself in front of her on one knee, taking one of her legs in his hands. She shifts, and the tall heel is digging into his chest, carving against his long dead heart.

Bonnie presses the heel a little harder, grinding in satisfaction. The action guts deep, he can't control his contented sigh.

He undoes the buckles, pulling the straps apart. She moves her leg away and pulls her own shoe off for spite.

Damon takes the next boot clad foot, and feels the same sharpness grinding into his chest, right in the exact spot as the last heel.

He holds her calf and ankle in his hands and thinks that she is a perfect, ruined thing. He starts thinking insane, unrealistic thoughts of the things he would give up, just for her, if she told him to.

Bonnie slides off the table once her boots are removed, her body inadvertently sliding against Damon's.

She stares at his chest for a moment before she says, "I have to call Elena."

It's like ice and cold water mixed together, landing on Damon, cooling him down.

He get's out of her way.

Bonnie takes her bag into the bathroom with her.

She pulls out her phone and goes through the motions. She calls her father, Elena, and Caroline. She even texts an abbreviated version of today's events to Stefan.

As she considers putting her phone away, she muses over an irrational thought.

Perhaps she could make things normal for herself again.

Perhaps it doesn't always have to be an uphill climb in every part of her life.

She calls Jeremy.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is the opportunity I will take to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews. Your support means so much****.**

* * *

_Wanting something and having it are two separate things._

**Chapter Six**

They get a flat tire on I-40 East and Bonnie's never changed a flat tire in her life so the task is delegated to Damon.

Damon struggles with the black rubber; the jack and lug wrench slip out of his hands like liquid.

Bonnie's never seen a vampire sweat.

"Maybe we should ask for help," she suggests.

"I know what I'm doing," Damon response is punctuated by an inopportune widening of the eyes that make he seem unhinged. He is crazy but he should keep all indications of such to himself.

Damon has changed a car tire millions of times. It's is simple.

However, this task is taking longer than it should. The entire trip has taken longer than it should and Damon wonders what the hell he's trying to prolong.

"Do you need me to help you?," Bonnie asks as cars wiz by.

He drops the wrench, a dense clattering sound getting lost among car exhaust "Do you happen to know a spell that would do this for me?," he asks, not exactly sarcastic if you count the fact that he didn't role his eyes.

"Yeah. I think there is one," Bonnie responds, getting out of the car.

She titters on her black leather boots which she swore were easier to wear yesterday than today. She pulls down her denim shorts, and adjusts the black t-shirt that's riding up and sticking to her skin.

A passing car honks.

"Get back in the car," Damon orders.

"I'm trying to help you," Bonnie protest.

"Get back in the car," Damon repeats, "and take off those boots."

"No! I like them and I'm wearing them," She sounds like she's twelve years old instead of seventeen.

"You look ridiculous."

"Your face is ridiculous," Bonnie retorts.

Another car honks, followed by a, "Hey baby, looking good!" from the driver.

Damon squints and clenches his jaw, "If you don't get back in the car I'm going to hurt the next driver who looks at you. Do you want that on your conscience?"

Bonnie hobbles back into the car, muttering under breath.

* * *

"I don't want to go home yet," Bonnie voices, once a new tire is on the car and they are yet again driving into an unknown future.

It is shocking for him to hear her announce something that he has been thinking in the deepest recesses of his own mind. Damon is stunned, although one couldn't tell just by looking at him. He generally hates the face he makes when he's caught in a moment of surprise: the slackened jaw, the wide eyes.

Above anything else, he hates looking foolish.

He certainly could not say that he agreed with the witch on many things but he makes a concession on this current issue.

He didn't want to go home either. He didn't know if it was because they were all going to die pretty soon (of this he is certain) or if it's because there was nothing back home for him.

There was Elena, who he whole-hearted pledges his life to. And he meant it. He'd die just so Elena could live.

There was his brother, for which there were no words to describe such a complicated relationship. He didn't want Stefan to die. He wanted some sibilance of a loving, brotherly connection.

There were now other people in his life that he had no idea of what label to put on them or how bad he would feel if something were to happen to them.

Yes, they have to go home; yes, they have to fight for a fragile little town where everyone is so oblivious to the dangers around them; but despite there being a pressing need, he did not want to go home right now.

They don't stop driving, though. They can't stop. There are too many responsibilities.

It's a familiar view.

Bonnie remembers the scenery as if it were imprinted on the back of her eyelids.

Crawling closer to Mystic Falls makes her stomach drop. The dread: an overwhelming reminder of all the things that are wrong with their current situation.

_What if_ is not a not a worrier's refrain but a real life possibility.

Bonnie's not aware of her frowning, of her body closing off in discontent. Damon sees this and thinks that Virginia is killing them slowly; if not with vampires, werewolves or curses, the stress will surely get to you.

"If you died, I would be sad," Damon offers. He can't be sure it's what Bonnie's thinking about but it seemed like the right thing to say.

(It's not as if he is sure what the right thing is anymore. He supposes it's the same as it ever was. Whatever keeps everyone alive is the right thing).

Bonnie laughs, the brittle sound of it bitter like a pill, "That's because you wouldn't be able to find another witch to do your bidding," she responds, poking the side of his face with a sharp finger.

Making fun of him, in essence.

"You. Stefan. All either of you have to do is say "Elena" and I'm powerless," Bonnie continues, running her hands over the sides of her mouth which fixes a permanent sad smile on her lips, downturned in thought, "I'd help anyway I can. Even if it meant dying."

It's not everyday a teenager gets to die for a special cause.

There are many things that they tip-toe around. She's a Bennett witch. She's young, nubile.

She should be able to do these things without the threat of death.

"I'm getting back together with Jeremy," Bonnie says, not sure if she's saying what she really means. It is not as if she and Jeremy were really together in the first place.

Damon ignores the semantics of the statement, focusing instead on the mistake he thinks she's making, "He's wrong for you."

"But that never stops you," Bonnie begins, "You are going back to your own personal love triangle. Jeremy and I are the only ones who want something remotely normal. I don't think that's wrong."

"He's young," Damon knows that's not a tangible argument.

The corner of her mouth lifts, a smirk that could rival his own, "You forget. I'm young, too."

The "Welcome to Mystic Falls" sign is as old as Damon feels.

* * *

This thing with Bonnie and Jeremy is slow with no promises. However, Jeremy can't hide his enjoyment of the fact that he gets to hold her, touch her.

There is still a vicious little part of him (left over from his parent's death, and Vickie's untimely demise) that likes the annoyance that flashes across Damon's face when he sees them together.

The expression itself can be a combination of arrogance, irritability, muddled along with how they plan to save Elena, true. But the jade colored jealousy that Damon holds in check flares in little spots, like a huge fire that can't be put out completely.

Damon throws himself into the easiest role there is. The systematic undermining of Stefan and Elena's relationship was his favorite pastime before his brief insanity that revolved around Bonnie.

And Elena, with her caring eyes and hugs that don't mean anything but comfort, gets confused in the possibility that maybe her attraction to Damon is not so innocent.

Elena loves Stefan in an absolutely heart altering way, but Damon may need her a little more.

The Salvatores act as shields for Ms. Gilbert and her friends and family act as soldiers. Anger would ensue if all of this work were dedicated to a less deserving person.

As it stands, Elena is still worth it.

* * *

Jeremy leans over and presses a kiss to Bonnie's mouth. She jerks at the contact. They are in an open space and Bonnie is not so crazy about public displays of affection.

"We are supposed to be doing homework." Bonnie picked the Grill because attempting school work at her house or at Jeremy's would be tricky.

Jeremy runs his fingers along her face because he's not sure he won't give in and kiss her in the next five minutes.

Bonnie catches the look in his eyes and excuses herself from the table.

She enters the Lady's Room and splashes water on her face, the drops cooling her blushing cheeks. Staring at herself in the mirror was never an interesting exercise but she does it for a few minutes to ground herself in the present.

Bonnie walks out of the bathroom only to have a hand slapped tight across her mouth and find her back pressed against a decidedly male chest.

The hand is removed from her mouth as quickly as it had landed there and she turns around. The heart that may have leaped in her chest is momentarily stalled.

Damon stares at her, the indifference on his face does nothing to mar the intensity of his eyes.

A comfortable acrimony exists between them, now. There was something akin to ambivalence before the road trip, and during the trip was a camaraderie bred of necessity and close quarters.

"A word of advice: Don't get distracted."

Bonnie knows what he means by being "distracted." She has been voted most likely to mess up under pressure.

"I know what I'm supposed to do," Bonnie responds, confidence waffling under close inspection.

After her accident, she was aware of the unshakable steel in her back, the buoyancy that put a bounce in her step. Then, her memories came back to her and the floor dropped from beneath her. The fear of the unknown was back, and she is not a strong as she believed she was.

Weakness seems to be written all over her face. She begs herself not to throw in the towel. Not yet. Not when Elena still needs her.

"Are we finished?" Bonnie asks because Damon doesn't say anything for a long while and it's not like him to be so quiet.

"We should get whatever this is between us out of the way," Damon says it as if he had every intention of saying something entirely different.

"There is nothing between us," Bonnie responds, although she senses it's not the wisest of choices.

The unfinished business between them keeps Damon from fully moving on. It's the thing that makes his innocuous flirtation with Elena taste like deception instead of victory. If he could get Bonnie out of his system, he could focus on important things.

After, Bonnie can ride off into the sunset with Jeremy for all he cared.

Bonnie sighs in impatience, and turns away with the purpose of going back to Jeremy. Damon stops her, his hand tight around her wrist, her delicate bones grinding under his fingers.

"Let go." Nothing hysterical in her voice. Anger eclipses the panic.

"Make me." He crowds her, no concept of personal space.

The prickle of pain starts at his temples but he covers her mouth with his regardless.

One kiss. He can let go of her after this one kiss. He can be done with it after he maps out her palate with his tongue.

She vibrates with hot anxiety, her body stuck right where it is. She knows that she moaned into the kiss, an involuntary response to something terribly pleasurable.

He unseals his mouth from hers for fraction of a second only to dive back in again, his hands sliding under her shirt.

Damon stills suddenly. He stops kissing her, backing up into his own corner, wiping his mouth like he hates the very idea that he has to do it.

"Is everything okay here?"

Jeremy voice shocks Bonnie. How could she have forgotten?

Damon mumbles something indiscernible and brushes past Jeremy, shoulders bumping roughly.

Jeremy looks at Bonnie, taking in her shaken appearance, "Are you okay?," he asks.

"Yeah," Bonnie responds, nodding her head.

In reality, she's anything but okay.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who had taken the time out to read and review any of my stories.**

**Warning: **some spoilers for 2X18: **"The Last Dance"** (albeit, a complete and utterly skewed projection of the episode).

* * *

_Danger makes the heart grow fonder._

**Chapter Seven**

Bonnie does the decent, honest thing. She tells Jeremy they should cool things off. It's the guilt talking. It's the I-can't bear-to-look-at-you-after-I've-kissed-another-guy that's ruling the conversation.

(Technically, Damon kissed her. But that is besides the point. She acknowledges the fact that she never said no.)

Jeremy doesn't want to cool things off, though. He doesn't want to halt whatever they have going for them.

She tells him about the kiss. The pure violence that flashes across Jeremy's face makes Bonnie realize that she's had everyone all wrong. People are not acting they way they are supposed to. Not any more. There are layers that Bonnie is not sure she ever wants to see.

Jeremy tries to laugh it off: his disappointment, his anger towards Damon, "There is nothing wrong with a little healthy competition."

What he really wants to say is that he would very much like something all to himself. Damon could have any girl he wanted.

Bonnie balks at Jeremy's simplicity. A number has been done on all of them to think that this current existence is anything close to normal.

It is on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she is not a bone to be fought over by two dogs, but who is she kidding.

* * *

Damon looks at Elena, at her fragile being; at how much is being done for her. She makes these backroom deals with anything and everyone: Kill her but spare her friends and family.

The difference is huge between selflessness and self-preservation, the former being the crowning glory of martyrdom. Frankly, he doesn't know what's worse.

If there was ever a moment that Elena could pretend that she did not need him in any genuine sense, now is not the time.

She's receptive like anyone who may die soon is receptive. His merciless flirting goes unchecked and unpunished, and there is no doubt in his mind that Elena knows that he _was_ in love with her.

_Is_ in love with her. The slip-ups are quick and real. Damon is in love with Elena. He has to be. It's not like there is anything else out there for him.

It is much easier than loving a witch.

* * *

In the middle of the day, Damon comes home to the house that now belongs to his brother's girlfriend. It is not the most typical thing in the world, to give a seventeen year old speed lessons in real estate or to make her an owner of a home with pieces that have existed longer than she has been on earth.

Then again, the Salvatores have shrugged off the jacket of normal so many years ago. (Although Stefan still likes to pretend, and Damon finds it hilarious).

Before Damon steps foot in the foyer, he is aware of voices, hushed tones that reek of conspiracy.

Damon's slightly disappointed when he realizes it's just Caroline and Stefan, bothered that the former is even allowed in the house. But, his mind suffers the worst case of whiplash at the thought because they should not be here. They should be in school learning from an incompetent educational system that is Mystic Falls High.

Through garbled, wet speech he catches _Matt_ and _lying_ and Stefan hugs Caroline to him like she's a lost child. It doesn't seem uncomfortable at all, like it has occurred many times over.

_When the hell did this happen?_ Without notice, Stefan seems to have found a friend in Caroline and she in him.

Damon smothers his croak of laughter and lays low until Caroline's tears are dried and she is sent on her merry way.

"What did Killer Barbie want?," Damon asks, pretending not to have heard.

Stefan was long conscious of his brother's presence. However, ignoring him can be a very difficult task, "Damon," a warning meant to stave off his brother's propensity to mock everything.

"Where's Elena?," Damon asks.

"At School," Stefan delivers, making his annoyance clear. Damon's line of questioning is suspect as all get-out.

"Why aren't you there with her?"

Stefan slightly blanches at the rebuke, "I'm going back there now," he insists.

Stefan effectively ends the conversation by walking out of the front door into the irritatingly sunny day.

His little brother is dropping the ball when it comes to Elena, and Damon never thought he'd see the day.

The world is coming to an end. That is the only plausible explanation.

* * *

The strategy is there is no strategy. It's a lose interpretation of survival.

A 1960's dance is the backdrop of rumble with Klaus, and Damon can't stop thinking that he is in some terrible film with bad lighting and an even poorer script.

This night starts as dull as a any other night. The usual happens, so much so that no one's hackles rise until the very last minutes of chaos.

Alaric is way cooler than he usually is, and Damon attributes it to alcohol and the possibly that Ric has gotten laid.

It does not occur to Damon that he has spent more time in high school now than he ever has before. The significance escapes him, he is not one to lament a lost childhood.

Caroline's not blubbering all over the place and Damon assumes she's gotten things back on track with the jock.

Jeremy Gilbert is as close to a nervous breakdown as he can get. Even with Bonnie dancing around him.

Elena smiling at him makes him feel like king of the road. Damon does not know what to enjoy more, Elena's naked adoration or the throbbing vein in Stefan's forehead.

If dancing with Elena was a fleeting reprieve from the obvious, dancing with Bonnie is a reminder of the present. They shoot the shit with as much snark as they can muster and they make issues of death and sacrifice a small affair. They have had this conversation before and they treat the revisited topic with disinterest.

Sure, she trembles in his arms a bit, and shakes with fear, but Bonnie's steadfast and until now, Damon he thought he was the only brave one.

Damon is full of interesting ideas. It is the reason he wraps a hand around Bonnie's elbow and slips out; away from the blaring music and the inaccurate portrayal of flower children.

The Girls' bathroom is closer than the Boys', and on the way there, Damon keeps his eyes peeled for Klaus while simultaneously formulating the best damn pep talk he has given in years.

It doesn't take much of a push to get Bonnie into a stall. Damon thinks about the last time he was in the bathroom with Bonnie Bennett and the moment seems like déjà vu.

What flies out of his mouth is that _this, all of this _is about protecting Elena. Bonnie nods like she understands, like that was her whole point in the first place then she launches herself into his arms, fingers scuffing along his shoulders hidden under his black, black shirt.

Bonnie knows that kissing him at a time like this is just plain stupid.

Damon didn't hesitate in kissing her back, eagerly pressing her against the partition. He held her to him and kissed her until he felt a strangely shaped heat uncoiling in his chest.

He will leave a bruise, he is kissing her too hard and too fast not to leave a mark. He will say what he has to say with his mouth and his tongue.

And Bonnie, the girl resigned to a crucified state of mind, kisses him like it is last thing she'll ever give or get.

The kiss ends because she has the breathe, air rushing out of her mouth, a terrible ache in her chest that tells her that this is a better way to die.

The two stand there, holding each other like dying animals in the forest.

* * *

Save for serial killers and evil, nefarious predators, no one has ever wanted to kill Bonnie before tonight. The thought prickles her, saddens her because she liked to think that she is a good as a person she can be.

Sometimes, when she uses magic she gets this near nirvana sensation that marathon runners get when they hit a particularly good stride: weightless, painless, the unmistakable indication that your body has given up before your brain has.

She's not floating but she feels like she is. The blood that drips from her nose grounds her like nothing else (Damon's lips on hers has the same effect but analyzing that is beyond irrelevant).

Looking at Klaus with Alaric's face is more difficult than Bonnie thought it would be. _He got to you to__.__ He got to all of us._ High school teachers used to be sacrosanct, right up there with small children and animals.

She can't resist looking at Elena and Stefan, hands sliding against the glass windows of the cafeteria doors, their mouth's open desperation.

The only recourse is to shut down.

* * *

His plan was fucking foolproof and he dares anyone to say anything different.

When Elena comes to Damon later, after the hysteria, he's amazed that she struggles so hard not to look shame-faced. He can't tell whether it's because she's truly sorry about smacking him or if it's because being is his bedroom has become a common occurrence and it shouldn't be.

He spouts some bullshit about always choosing her, follows the script complete with pained facial expression - _this is what a person looks like when they cannot have the person they're in love with_.

And Elena seems so relieved. She didn't hurt his feelings nearly enough to make him turn away from her.

* * *

Damon remembers when going underground used to be exhilarating.

He finds Jeremy's slouched upright, eyes closed, frowning even as he sleeps.

Candles surround Bonnie like a shrine. She lays on her side, already out of this evening's clothing, clad in sweats and a t-shirt too big for her frame.

Damon doesn't know how she can sleep when he's wired like a son of a bitch.

Bonnie's eyes fly open, a terrible thought infiltrating confused sleep.

"Damon?," she asks because it somehow seems unthinkable that Klaus would find her so soon.

Damon doesn't do the human thing like inquire about her health. He needs to stare at her blinking eyes because the image of her still body will haunt him forever.

"Elena was upset," Damon says.

"I know. There wasn't enough time to tell her." Bonnie looks like she's going to cry.

"Do you need anything?"

"No," Bonnie says, shaking her head in a sluggish manner, "Jeremy. He brought me everything. Some clothes, laptop, my books." She plans to sit there and pour over every single spell she can. That book that she and Damon drove so many miles for must have something they can use.

Damon should go home. He should go home to an empty bed only to be bombarded by the sounds of frantic coupling between his brother and Elena.

"I'm sorry," Bonnie says quietly.

Damon is taking aback by the statement "About what?"

"Alaric. I know he was your friend. I don't know how but maybe I can get Klaus to leave his body."

"Don't worry about that now."

"Why not? Just add it to a very long list of things to worry about," Bonnie comments, a wry smile on her face.

"What happened in the bathroom..." Damon starts, trailing off before he completes his statement.

"It was nothing. I don't know. Maybe it was my last attempt at being spontaneous," Bonnie offers as an excuse.

Damon makes a sound that is just too gentle for its own good.

Spur of the moment, he speeds over to where she is sitting and he does something ridiculously juvenile. He presses a kiss to her cheek in one moment of sheer recklessness. It's not lost on Damon that Bonnie accepts the kiss because she gives in more readily than Elena ever did.

Jeremy jerks awake only to see Bonnie's wide open eyes, "Can't sleep?"

Bonnie stares at the space that Damon once stood, "Something like that," Bonnie answers distractedly.

She puts a hand to her face and wonders what will happen tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N UPDATE INFO:**

**Due to various real life obligations (grad school is kicking my behind), "She Hates Me" will be updated sporadically until the end of May. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: A big thank you to everyone who supports my writing!**

**Warning**: Some spoilers but most of the stuff written here never happened (on the show, at least)

* * *

_'Better' and ' Worse' are comparative by nature._

**Chapter Eight**

Damon tells her that he hasn't killed anyone in a long while, and Bonnie is not sure what her response should be.

_Andie Starr_. Bonnie feels a little guilty that she's forgotten about that woman.

Damon relays the information in a nonchalant manner that makes her want to hit him. Even here, stuck in a place that's quickly becoming claustrophobic, the urge to right all of Damon's wrongs in a violent manner has not gone away. Combined with the feeling is an equally annoying urge to smother his lips with hers.

Bonnie ignores the latter.

Whatever softness between them the night of the sixties dance has dimmed a little. Embarrassment crept in. It replaces tenderness like a winter coat.

Damon tools around, fingering books that he is not going to open, passing his palms along lit candles to prove that he is a big boy who can take all the pain in the world.

Bonnie never realized how fragile he was until now. (More likely, she did not want to know how fragile. A monster doesn't get her sympathy. It's how the whole Good vs. Evil deal works).

Exists is a ticking time bomb that detonates at the mention of Elena.

It's an elephant that sits heavy and massive in the room but Bonnie can't play counselor. She can't tell Damon to go home and make up with the only living relative he is ever going to have. She can't tell Damon that loving Elena is a loss cause, either, because Bonnie is not sure it is.

It is not Bonnie's business, regardless. Klaus is on her mind. And Protecting Elena. And Jeremy.

Not Damon. Never Damon again.

Bonnie sometimes wonders what it would have been like if she hadn't regained her memory. Would she still be in a twisted romance with the Salvatore brother?

No. Surely not. He would have pulled the rug from under her, eventually.

His one true obsession was Katherine. His one true love is Elena. Bonnie was a blimp on his radar.

She is suddenly luckily she didn't end up like Andie Starr.

* * *

There is a thump and a moan that tells him Stefan and Elena are home.

Stefan used to be careful. Considerate, even.

Now every sigh is a reminder that Stefan has Elena, and that Damon is alone. Damon can't quite remember being the loser he has somehow turned into.

Fate has played a cruel joke on him. His gifted with charm. He has a face and a body that women can't seem to say no to.

Except every girl he truly wants says no. Every word means no.

REJECT is stamped on his forehead and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try a scrape it off.

* * *

There is some small part of Bonnie that feels bad. The blind (but not death or dumb) devotion that Jeremy bestows upon her warms the parts that never forgot what it means to really care about another human being.

With no strings attached. No 'I love you only if you love me.'

Bonnie wants to give herself to Jeremy. All of herself, not just appropriate pieces.

She can't, though. If it is not her own treacherous thoughts that send her reeling, it's Damon's inopportune visits.

It seems as if he knows the exact time Jeremy's hand is up her shirt. He knows the exact time the button of her jeans is undone, he knows when the zipper is down.

Bonnie has vowed that she will have end of the world sex. It's hard to make that wish come true with Damon Salvatore walking in at the wrong (right) times.

Bonnie figures if he was happy in his own romantic life, he'd stop stepping all over hers.

A gust of sheer frustration comes out of Bonnie one day. She blames the heat and the lack of love-making for her bitchiness.

"I just don't get it. Are you expecting Elena to stop loving Stefan even if she, by some miracle, grows to love you?"

Damon blinks owlishly, slow and deliberate.

It's a valid question, Bonnie thinks. Damon had to have thought about it.

He had to have thought about freaking star-crossed, vampiric Romeo and Juliet entity of Stefan and Elena. There is no way he hasn't thought about it.

The look on his face tells Bonnie he has indeed not thought about it.

Damon is literally too old to be burying his head in the sand.

He pretends hasn't heard her. The momentary surprise replaced by arrogance.

Boys are always better at saving face then girls.

Bonnie should let it go. She know she should.

She can't.

"If Elena were to dump Stefan and decide that she was totally in love with you, how could you ever believe it was real?" Bonnie doesn't know where the question comes from.

Maybe it's her own guilt. It's the fact that she doesn't feel the same things with Jeremy as she does with Damon.

Damon jaw ticks like the one-sided conversation is going to end with Bonnie's head on a platter.

But once Bonnie get's into a zone, she won't let up. A dog with a bone comes to mind. "I mean, if she leaves Stefan, a man she is completely in love with, how could you be sure she wouldn't leave you?"

It's an idiotic question really, since one scenario doesn't guarantee the other.

A look passes over Damon's face and Bonnie is sorry that she ever said anything. Regrettably, her mouth never listens, "I thought you loved that about Elena, her loyalty."

Bonnie knows that Damon is going to argue. She can see it in the wideness of his eyes, in that wild look that says you've pushed too much way too soon.

Damon wants to tell her that he is better than Stefan. He's hotter and smarter, and braver and that is all Elena needs. The thoughts sound false, and while he's never been modest and never afraid of embellishing his own attributes, doubt has settled in the middle of his shoulder blades.

Jeremy enters, then. He cuts through the throbbing tension, presses his front into Bonnie's back and bends to kiss her on the check.

Jeremy Gilbert has perfect timing.

* * *

_I thought you loved that about Elena, her loyalty._

It's a cliché romance novel, is what it is.

Damon makes as much noise as he possibly can when he comes home. He slams doors. Antique highball glasses land roughly against polished wood.

Damon reasons that all of that dust must have gone to Bonnie's brain. It's the only reason he didn't tear into her like a steak. He let her make her ill-informed observations.

Her thinly veiled plea to not ruin the sanctity of Stefan and Elena.

_How could you ever believe it was real?_

Bonnie hasn't the first clue. She has no idea what love means. She's a child.

'Elena's a child, though it's she?' His own perfidious thoughts remind him.

"Elena's different," he counters out loud, talking to empty air.

How long to go before Damon loses it completely?

_How could you be sure she wouldn't leave you?_

"Elena wouldn't do that to me."

"Wouldn't do what to you?"

Damon spins around, bourbon sloshing in his glass.

He didn't hear Elena come in. He couldn't smell her smell, couldn't hear her heartbeat.

"Damon, are you okay?" That bright light of concern, of caring. Elena is not Katherine.

Damon stares at Elena intensely like he is wont to do, and Elena stares back just as intense, like she knows all of his secrets.

"Are you ever going to tell me?" Damon asks, disregarding Elena's previous question.

"Tell you what?" Elena whispers, as if something is happening between them that she doesn't want anyone else to hear.

"Tell me that you love me."

There's a moment that Elena's face is so thoroughly open that is startles Damon. She's never been good at hiding her emotions and he's never seen such sadness.

"I'll take that as a no," Damon responds, a grimace that never quite reaches his heart.

Damon needed a new 'distraction.'

* * *

Damon wants to play hero for once.

He'd like to think he was smart and untouchable and sneaky as all get-out.

He saves Caroline.

Saves Matt from himself and his stupid gun. (Really there should be a license for that thing; only people who aren't likely to be rendered unconscious by their own gun should be allowed to handle such a thing).

He saves Tyler because Vampire Barbie wants him to and Damon will admit that he's done so much loathsome shit to her that he'll relent just this once.

Tyler bites him in the forest because he's an animal and controlling baser instincts are not a high priority.

Tyler bites him in the forest because he never forgot about Mason.

Damon is peeved because the bite hurts like hell but being one-upped by Klaus goes against everything he ever believed in.

* * *

There is something about finding out that you are going to die that makes one want to put everything in perspective while simultaneously making one want to say to hell with it all.

Stefan prays that a magic cure will fall into their laps and Damon can't bring himself to crush Stefan's spirit no more than he has in the past.

Stefan holds on to his sliver of hope and Damon sets about getting his life in order.

* * *

The witches' house still makes him uncomfortable, but he's visited more times than he can count.

Damon wonders why it's still so damn barren, why all he manages to find are books and candles and Bonnie and the Gilbert boy. The lap top continues to stick out like a sore thumb, and occasionally he find something else along those lines that is way too modern for this setting.

Bonnie's head is buried so far in the book that has only brought them more questions than answers.

She doesn't startle easily, not anymore. She keeps reading as if she hadn't heard Damon come in.

"Is something wrong?," Bonnie asks, eyes still scanning pages and pages of information she never wants to use but knows that sooner or later, she'll have no choice.

Damon swallows, throat working in tandem with his racing thoughts.

Earlier in the day, he apologized to Elena. He was greeted with lukewarm reluctance. Out of all the times Elena could have held his feet to the fire, she chooses now not to forgive so readily.

Bonnie will surely be more difficult.

"I wanted to..." Damon begins, suddenly hating how weak he sounded. "I'm...sorry. For everything."

Bonnie closes the book and sighs tiredly, air rushing out of her lungs. "Why now?"

Damon is at once indignant, but equally contrite, "I've apologized before."

Bonnie searches her memory, searches for a time Damon has apologized to her and meant it. "You said you were sorry about my grandmother, " she concedes. "You said you were sorry about not being honest with me when I had amnesia. I never believed you meant it, though. In fact I'm pretty sure you do the same thing all over again."

Bonnie says it without a trace of anger. More matter-of-fact, more resigned to the truth.

Damon squints, smirking inwardly because he knew she would be difficult. He wonders if he should tell her he's dying. What would her forgiveness look like, then?

"I forgive you. You were only doing what you wanted to do. Holding that against you would not make me feel any better."

Damon's eyes widen because he was not expecting Bonnie's response. "Bennett witches hold grudges."

Bonnie smiles at that, looking at her hands, "Bennett witches do alot of things. You love Elena and you'll keep her safe. Even when I won't be able to."

Damon shifts uncomfortably, deciding to tell her the truth of his predicament "About that ―" Damon stops because the footsteps he hears belong to Jeremy Gilbert and the last thing he needs is the kid butting in.

Before Jeremy could say a word, Bonnie interjects, "Damon stopped by for a visit. He didn't want me to die of boredom."

"Oh yeah?," Jeremy responds distractedly.

Damon had to hand to him. Once Jeremy interprets danger, he's always cautious.

"I was just leaving." Damon announces, feet taking him out of the room.

He suddenly stops at the doorway, only to turn back, "You should really fix up the place," grimacing in mock disgust.

"There's something wrong with that guy," Jeremy states, mixture of abhorrence and respect gracing his face as Damon exits.

"He'll grow out of it," Bonnie responds.

_Can you wait for him to grow up?_

Bonnie shakes the voice out of her head because that witch in St. Stephen, South Carolina is just as crazy as Damon is.

* * *

**AUTHOR's NOTE/UPDATE INFO:**

**Real life continues to make mince meat out of me. She Hates Me is still on sporadic update notice.**


	9. Chapter 9

_Don't cry over spilt milk; especially if you were the one to knock over the glass._

**Chapter Nine**

They form a plan.

A cockneyed, sure-to-fail plan that is supposed to kill an unstoppable Klaus.

And Damon winces and grimaces throughout when no one is looking. Stefan notices and is instantly reminded that he has had his brother for all of his life. The possibility of not having Damon around anymore is heartbreaking.

Later, Damon will come back to the witch. After everyone is gone, a shaky plan forged for the one who escaped their wrath.

Damon is not sure what he expects from her. He is running out of time; hours slipping through his fingers; and this house, this witches' house that Bonnie cannot bare to leave seems like the safest place in the world.

For her part, Bonnie can't understand why she hasn't left yet. After all, the jig is up: Klaus knows about the secret weapon that is Bonnie, he knows she hadn't died like she was suppose to. Elena is alive. Jeremy is alive.

Bonnie should go home to her workaholic father, to her room that she hasn't seen in days and days it seems.

Except, she feels stronger in this house, so much stronger. She feels like she can do anything if the universe would let her. Anything at all.

Damon comes back, and Bonnie doesn't understand why he's drawn to this place either.

"How's Elena?," Bonnie asks, the sorest subject for a Salvatore.

"She's..." Damon trails off. He can't say that Elena's fine. She is anything but.

He remembers in the old country, when women used to shroud themselves in black after an ordeal such as Elena has been through.

"She's going to be okay." A prediction. A future Damon wants so badly to come true.

Damon winces, his jaw tightening and his eyes watering in something that must be pain. He looks sweaty and sickly and Bonnie's never noticed until now.

When it's just the two of them, she notices everything.

"What's wrong with you?" It sounds harsher to her ears than she meant it but she is irritated. Damon is not behaving like his usual, arrogant self. That is cause for alarm.

Damon squints his eyes, opens and closes his mouth. He weighs the consequences of telling Bonnie the truth. He told his brother and Stefan can't handle it.

Denial is rampant and plenty in the Salvatore home.

Damon rolls up his sleeve, slowly, a fever causing the bite to stick to the fabric.

Bonnie edges closer. "What is that?"

"A werewolf bite. Tyler."

There is a moment of confusion. Bonnie not really listening; or if she had heard, not really comprehending.

Bonnie runs her fingers over the marred skin. Damon hisses at the contact.

Underneath, where his veins are, the infection from the bite links with his cells, turning his body against him; turning his body inside out.

"I can't..."Bonnie shakes her head in a rapid 'no'. She has faced the possibility of her own death for a long time. But _this_, the mortality that is suddenly Damon Salvatore has never occurred to her.

"I can do something about the pain." Bonnie spins away. Her "spells cure all" mode funny if not for the seriousness of the current situation.

She chants under her breath. Latin, and something much older.

After a few moments, Damon experiences a pleasant numbness. He can no longer feel his body shutting down and he doesn't know if he is relieved or more terrified than before.

There is a certain charm to being able to recognize one's own deteriorating capabilities.

Bonnie doesn't know she is crying until wetness reaches her mouth, the trembling making the drops shake without losing their crystal form.

Damon is in front of her in less time than is takes to blink. He lifts his hand, the one attached to the arm that is still perfect in its smoothness, and presses a thumb to an errant tear that has zigzagged down her face.

Elena will cry for him, he's sure. Stefan will mourn him after he is gone, he'll concede.

He honestly didn't think Bonnie would care.

"You're dying. Like Rose." Elena had told Bonnie all about Rose: the woman who kidnapped Elena but wanted to help them in any way she could. Rose: the woman who was brave and cowardly all in one go.

"Shhh," Damon urges because all of it is too loud for his own ears. He wonders who will be the one to drive a stake through his heart when delirium takes over.

Not Stefan. Stefan is not strong enough.

"You don't understand," Bonnie says, panic laced tightly with the words, "Before I even remembered what I felt for Jeremy, I...I only wanted you. No one else. Just you."

It's safe for Bonnie to say this.

Damon will die and he won't remember.

Damon owes her something for her confession. He is not familiar with the absolute truth, "When we were together, it meant everything." Damon's fragmented response didn't come out right.

His brain has ceased working properly.

He wants to tell her that in some impossible way, he fell in love with her.

Because she knew he had feelings and never tried to exploit it or use it against him.

Because she gave him flowers for his birthday when for a long time, the only other present he ever got was from his brother.

Because she had to have been the most beautiful, unassuming thing he's ever held in his hands.

He could tell her all of this because he will die, and she won't remember.

He kisses her, then, not caring if Klaus himself, were to walk in.

Because she forgave him before she knew he was dying.

* * *

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the short chapter, but it is all that time allows. **

**A reviewer asked whether the sayings in the beginning of the chapters are from song lyrics and the like, or whether I make them up.**

**I make them up. My mind wanders and my mouth likes to ramble.**

**Thanks for the support.**


	10. Chapter 10

_Oh Beautiful boy, let's be broken souls together._

**Chapter Ten**

"We've been through this already," Jeremy says with annoyance, a little anger riding underneath.

"I love you, Jeremy, I really do. I want you to be happy," Bonnie states.

"You make me happy," Jeremy says. He stares at her like he doesn't know where the real Bonnie has gone. Who is this person that has replaced his beloved witch?

A restaurant may not be the best way to break up with a boyfriend, but it had to be done.

"It's complicated," Bonnie responds.

What's complicated is that she can't keep her mouth to herself. She can't keep her hands to herself.

Damn it, she can't keep her heart to herself.

She's not faithful to Jeremy; not in the way she would like to be.

Not when Damon's around.

It's an awful countdown till his demise. Hours. Minutes. Stefan came to her asking for her help, asking her to do something.

If she knew how to cure Damon, she would.

"This back and forth between us, you can't tell me you honestly enjoy it," the certainty of Bonnie's statement startles Jeremy.

No, he didn't enjoy it. One moment, he has all that his young heart desires; Bonnie: someone strong; someone who could keep herself safe, at least for a little while. The next moment, something breaks them up.

"Why can't you be honest with me and tell me what this is really about?"

"Jeremy, you won't understand, but you are right. You deserve nothing but the truth from me. I'd want you to be honest and here I am, doing something that I would be angry with you for."

"What's going on?" There's dread; cold, hard dread that does nothing to calm Jeremy and his racing pulse.

Bonnie sighs, "I thought that I could hang on to my anger forever. I thought that it would warm me and fill me like nothing ever could after my grandmother's death. But it made me this shell of a person. Every new emotion I felt after that was shallow, on the surface. My love for you, Jeremy, came out of fear of myself; fear of vampires, fear of people who were stronger than me. I wanted something nice and normal. That was you. I'm not saying that what I fell for you isn't real. It's just...it's not the grand love that you or I want. You know I'm not Anna or Vicki. You know what being in love with them felt like."

Jeremy rejects the notion, "This is about Damon." A simple statement, delivered without emotion. Jeremy prayed there was no truth in his words.

Bonnie didn't answer right away. Anything she said could hurt Jeremy, and she was really tired of hurting him, "I got to know him when I had amnesia, and maybe it wasn't the Damon you and I are familiar with. Maybe the person he presented to me is a complete lie, I don't know. But I have feelings for him, and that isn't fair to you.

"You're in love with him. Even after everything," Jeremy guesses. "You don't want to be, but you are."

Later, Jeremy will die at the hands of Sheriff Forbes, and Bonnie will remember that Jeremy is one of the people who know her better than she knows herself.

She will save him with all of her might.

* * *

Damon dreams that his fingers are tangled in the laces of Katherine's corset; but it isn't a dream. It's reality until Elena yells, "Stop!", and his fingers glide over a t-shirt and the metal clips of a bra.

Damon dreams that his teeth are imbedded so far into Katherine's cool, olive skin; but it isn't a dream. It's reality until Elena yells, "Stop!", and the blood he's drinking doesn't burn with vampiric power but tastes like plain, teenaged, American girl.

Damon dreams about Bonnie's warm mouth and her lovely fluttering eyelashes; but it isn't a dream. It's reality until Elena's lips press against his.

* * *

Damon sits on his bed, sheets rumpled and sweaty with fading sickness.

Elena paces in front of him, waiting for a text message that will never come.

"He won't text you back," Damon states. He's alive but his voice sounds dead.

Elena jumps at his words. Already, she's forgotten that he's there. She laid against him all night, pressed herself as closely as possible and she forgets just as quickly.

"We have to...we'll go get him," Elena suggests, face still burning from Katherine's long gone presence.

It's a good idea, to go get Stefan. Damon wishes he thought of that one ages ago.

As it is, he's still stunned. Damon thought he had burned an obvious bridge with Stefan. But Stefan still loves him. More than anything.

More than Stefan loved himself, even.

"We'll find him. We'll get him away from Klaus," Elena begins, some strategy that will end in disaster forming in her mind.

"Did he tell you?," Damon asks, "Did he tell you he was going to do this?"

"He thought Klaus would know how to cure you," Elena says with her sad, crumpled visage.

"Why did you let him go?"

This is as close as Damon's ever came to accusing Elena of any wrong doing.

* * *

Elena becomes the little girl who can't eat or sleep without her security blanket.

She wears bags under her eyes and clings to Stefan's shirts until they no longer smell like the younger Salvatore.

She let's Jeremy, Bonnie, Caroline, and even Alaric engulf her in heavy hugs.

But she crumbles under Damon's hands like a little china doll and she cries on his expensive shirts more often than necessary.

* * *

"What if we can't find him?," Damon asks.

Of course they'll find him. Damon will always be able to find his brother.

What he really means is: What if they can't bring Stefan home? How far gone is the dear boy?

Bonnie stares at Damon's forlorn form on her front porch.

Mr. Bennett, safe and asleep inside, didn't blink when Bonnie finally came home from an unexplained absence.

"Where's Elena now?," Bonnie asks, figuring it's the right thing to inquire.

"With Caroline," Damon responds, "I needed a break." He manages a watery smile.

"Come on," Bonnie retreats inside her house, beckoning Damon to follow.

In her room, Damon stands at the foot of her bed like he's unsure of himself, like he's unsure of his next move.

Bonnie lays on the bed first. Damon soon follows the action.

He will sleep better than he has in days.

Damon leaves first thing in the morning and Bonnie wonders if she dreamt it all. It's reality when Damon comes back the next night.

* * *

Bonnie wakes up, her internal clock working like a charm.

Her vision is eclipsed by smooth, pale skin; her face planted between Damon's shoulder blades.

She moves away, unwinding her legs and arms from his limbs.

She starts to get out of bed when a hand stops her, gliding across her stomach, and rises up to gently test the weight of her naked breast.

"Where do you think you're going?," his lips against her ear.

They talked about this before. If Elena were to catch them here, like this, it would make Elena 'uncomfortable.'

"Don't go yet," his nose against her neck, now. "Elena is not awake."

"But when she does wake up, she'll call me first thing. Do you really want to explain why my ringtone is blaring throughout the house?," Bonnie challenges.

"But you'll come back, right." It comes out like a simple statement but it's really a question. If he makes the wrong move, this pleasure and peace between them can end.

"I'll come back," Bonnie promises, sliding out of his grasp.

"We should just tell her," Damon muses as he watches Bonnie dress. Underwear and jeans first.

She always covers up the bottom before the top.

"Now is not a good time. Stefan is ―"

"I know," Damon interjects, all mischief and teasing gone with the mention of his missing brother.

Bonnie tried out some of her witch connections with those who still jump at the mere allusion of the Bennett name.

Stefan and Klaus were last seen in Brazil, of all places. Elena wanted to go there and drag Stefan back with her bare hands but Elena would make waves with her face being so much like Katherine's.

Damon was not a viable choice to bring Stefan home, either. Stefan was bound to pick up on Damon's notorious presence.

There was nothing to do but track and wait.

* * *

"Damon," Elena calls through the door before entering into his bedroom.

He sensed her outside the door; her hesitation, her quick heartbeat.

Damon clinches the book in his hands and counts the minutes until Bonnie's return.

He hopes he makes it through Elena's meltdown for the night.

She sits on the bed and Damon takes it as his cue to drop the book and put his arms around her.

Elena's tears are hot and plenteous and her hands roam everywhere, unsettled because her mind is unsettled.

Her compass. Her light. Klaus took it with him leaving only a blood trail behind.

"I just want him back," she sobs against his neck.

Damon thinks nothing of the swipe of her tongue against his jaw. This physicality, it has been increasing in frequency and in boldness since Stefan's disappearance.

"Elena," Damon stills her as she wiggles in his embrace.

"Make me forget," she pleads.

He wants to tell her that she won't forget. He wants to tell her that it will only make things so much worse.

"Please, Damon. Please."

It would take a strong man to resist.

Bonnie finds Damon sitting at the edge of his bed; shirtless and pants undone, but her eyes are drawn to Elena, sleeping fitfully, wrapped naked in his sheets.

'You didn't." But he did and Bonnie knows it even before she thought the words.

With blurred vision, it's a wonder Bonnie makes it down the stairs without breaking her neck.

Damon stops her before she can open the door; palm over the wood, keeping it closed and her, effectively trapped.

"I'm sorry." The words trip out of his mouth.

"No. You're not."

His fingers grind against the wood.

"Elena needs me right now," Damon says, as if that explains everything.

"I can't..." Bonnie starts to say, but everything she can think of seems to fall flat, "When you do these things, it makes it hard for me to care about you."

Damon lets her go, then.

There's no aneurism. No fire. No parting gift from the witch.

In the morning, Alaric, who splits his time between the Gilbert residence, the Salvatore boardinghouse, and the nearest bar, finds damaged furniture and shattered glass all over the place.

* * *

"Guys are jerks," is Caroline's assessment of the whole situation.

Bonnie and Caroline sit in Caroline's car parked outside of the Gilbert residence.

They are suppose to go in; fill the house with laughter and food, make Jeremy and Elena feel like human beings again.

"How am I supposed to go in there, Caro? I can't blame Elena. It's not like she knew about Damon and me, she has too many things to worry about. Grief makes you do things you normally wouldn't do. I'm not sure I can even blame Damon. I just feel incredibly stupid."

"Maybe it's not meant to be," Caroline comments unnecessarily, "Matt and I didn't work because he didn't want me beyond anything else. He's still afraid of me. And if Damon can't love you beyond Elena, then..." Caroline trails off, thinking that she's said too much.

"Let's go," Bonnie decides.

"You're still going in?," Caroline looks at Bonnie in amazement.

"Yes. Beyond anything else, Elena's my friend."

* * *

During sex, Elena and Damon are as connected as two people seem to be when all that exists is bitterness and unshakable pain.

Afterwards, Elena always turns way, her back forever facing him. She doesn't curl into him like Bonnie would, she doesn't share her warmth.

Damon stays awake; eyes refusing to close, body refusing to rest.

He could handle it if Bonnie would just get angry at him.

Scream at him.

Hurt him.

But Bonnie's numb, and Damon wants so badly to kill something.

He always wanted Elena; the kindlier, gentler Katherine.

But the victory tastes like ash. His brother is lost and demented, and his insides ache with the knowledge.

Bonnie won't look at him too long, won't speak to him too long. And all he wants is to crawl inside the safe haven that is Bonnie Bennett.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: To Lynsay, who asked me where I was going with this plot: Sometimes your worst fear has to happen before you can move on to better things.**

* * *

_When it all falls apart in your hands, pick up the pieces slowly._

**Chapter Eleven**

Elena comes to Damon one night, and he tells her "no."

Uncertainty flashes across her face. Maybe she hadn't heard him right.

"No," he says and he doesn't feel like giving an explanation.

In the day, Elena is like a demon ― Stefan. Where's Stefan? Find Stefan. "My love, Stefan."

She means it. Truly, she means every word.

Bit by bit, she breaks apart because Stefan is not there to hold her together.

She feels crazy. She _knows_ she is going crazy. And the only one to understand such madness is Damon.

"Find Stefan, please." Like a chant.

So now he tells her "no" and she wants to know why.

"Don't you feel...bad?" Damon can't remember when he's used such a word in such a tone but he feels like a father scolding a child.

"Yes," Elena responds in a whisper, fresh tears running down her face as if it just occurred to her, that yes, she's not being the faithful girlfriend anymore.

"But why?," Elena's continues through the emotion clogging her throat. There is something bigger than herself in the room. She can feel it. Otherwise, why now? How can Damon be the voice of reason? How can Damon be the one with morals?

"Every minute with you kills a chance for me..."Damon states, faltering towards the end.

* * *

Damon sits in front of Alaric, and Alaric listens carefully as Damon confesses his sins. His lust, his greed, his covetousness, the hate for his brother that, at times, eclipsed the love for his brother.

Alaric's fingers twitch with the drink in his hand as he listens.

"What do you want out of all this?," Alaric asks to a Damon who almost looks his age: old, worn out.

Damon rubs his eyes, pressing against his cornea way too hard.

Stefan wouldn't ask him what he wanted. Stefan would know with absolute certainty what Damon wanted and would watch as Damon made a move to get it.

"I want Bonnie," Damon answers in lowly manner, as if he's ashamed of wanting something he does not deserve.

"Then why are you talking to me?" Alaric asks.

Damon doesn't have anyone else to talk to.

* * *

Elena has become the little girl with the nervous condition. She drops every glass, and every plate ends up on the floor.

Jeremy shouldn't feel so much older than Elena. He can't be the parent for both of them.

He grabs her by the elbow, pressing her bones between his fingers, hoping to stop the train wreck.

"What are you doing?"

It's urgent and Elena is confused, "Jeremy, what are you talking about?"

"Stop it. Just stop it. Whatever you are doing with Damon, stop it."

Elena's eyes darken, a tightening around her mouth that makes her look suddenly ugly, "I'm not doing anything with Damon." She's not exactly lying. She's not sleeping with him anymore.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Everyone knows, Elena. Everyone."

No, Elena thinks. Everyone can't know. Caroline can't know. Bonnie can't know. Alaric can't know.

It would mean that Stefan would take one look at her and know everything, too.

"Look, I don't know. Maybe you decided that you want Damon. I really don't care. But you can't do this now. At least wait until Stefan's here to break his heart. Don't do it behind his back."

Her hand comes out of nowhere, its impact burning on Jeremy's cheek. Elena shakes with anger, "You have no right to say these things to me."

"If I don't say it to you, who else will? We don't have many choices anymore, Elena. We are all each other have. That's it, Elena. This is us! This is our family. But okay, if you don't want to talk about Stefan, at least think about Bonnie."

"What does Bonnie have to do with anything?"

"You're kidding, right?"

The two stare at each other like the other is a foreign object.

"You really don't know?"

"Know what?," Elena bites out, irritated with the whole conversation.

"Damon and Bonnie are together. Or, at least they were before...you."

"No. You ― She's with you. She's with you, right?" How much time did she lose? How far had she buried her head in the sand?

Jeremy shakes his head, "We broke up a while ago, so she could give the son of a bitch a chance. And he ruined it just like he ruins everything else. I just didn't think you'd help him."

"No! She's not ― I wouldn't do that to Bonnie," Elena puts her hand over her ears.

"You really had not idea, did you? He didn't even tell you."

Jeremy stalks from the counter of their kitchen, heading out of the door before Elena catches his hand. "Where are you going?"

Jeremy turns around and places his hand on her shoulders, "I'm sorry I don't know how to help you. I'm sorry that this happened to all of us."

Jeremy lets her go and walks out into the night.

* * *

Jeremy sits on his anger for a few days. He's figured out that no one listens to a hysterical kid. No one takes someone like that seriously.

It's not like he's expecting a heart-to-heart when he finds Damon in a bar.

Jeremy tries to remember what his father told him about facing an opponent, about making sure respect exists on all sides.

Jeremy is not sure he respects Damon. There are things that Damon has done to hurt him, to hurt his family.

But sometimes, Damon is the type of man Jeremy wishes he were. He has guts. He could have any woman he wanted. He could do anything he wanted to do.

Jeremy envies that, envies that of both Salvatore brothers.

"I don't think I have to tell you how badly you screwed up."

Damon smirks into his water-downed Bourbon. He doesn't need advice from Boy Wonder. "Go away."

"I wish I could, but see, you hurt two women that I care about. You're supposed to protect Elena. Even if that means protecting her from herself. And as much as I hate to admit it, I know that you feel something for Bonnie. I don't know why you did what you did. I don't know why Elena did it. But, you have to fix it. You have to tell Bonnie that she's not responsible for your shortcomings. And then you have to let her go so she can be happy."

Damon snorts at Jeremy's philosophical musings, "Happy. Happy with someone like you?"

"As much as I want her, she would have to find someone who would be okay with living in your shadow."

* * *

Bonnie suffers through a quiet dinner with her father. Everything she chews seems flavorless. Everything she swallows seems to make her choke.

Bonnie doesn't bat an eyelash when she comes upstairs to find Damon sitting on her bed.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying. You should leave." She says it knowing Damon won't comply.

"Do you hate me?," Damon slurs, eyes bleary but lit, like gasoline's been thrown in them.

"You're drunk, so anything you say to me doesn't count. You are only honest about your feelings when you're drunk. Or when you're going to die. Or when I have amnesia and I don't remember anything but what you tell me."

"You hate me," Damon answers for her, blinking rapidly.

"I hated you a long time ago. But I pity you, because as lost as Stefan is right now, you're in worse shape. Get out of my room."

"I want to fix this. Tell me how to fix it," Damon has no strategy, has no plan that he could think of to make Bonnie his again.

"Why did you sleep with Elena?" Bonnie didn't want to ask but she was powerless against that part of her that needs to know why Elena was such a prize.

"She...she understands me. She doesn't want me to be something I'm not."

"Unlike me."

"It's different," Damon is painfully aware of how feeble that sounds.

"I am safe for you. I am easy for you. You don't have to fight with anyone for me and that bores the hell out of you, doesn't it?"

"I told Elena that we couldn't ― We're not together anymore."

"'Together," Bonnie mocks.

"I fucked up, okay. It's what I do. "

"If that's what you do, and if you can't learn some way not to step all over the ones you claim to care about, then I don't want to be with you. I shouldn't have to beg you to be faithful to me. You should want to. There should be something inside of you that would want to be good to me. Because I wanted so badly to be good to you."

Bonnie goes towards her bathroom but is halted at the doorway when Damon stops her. One of his arms wrap around her miniature waist, while the hand of his other arm clutches her collarbone.

"Please, Bonnie. Please," He pleads against her hair.

"What ever you want me to do." He is asking for some great test to prove his love because he's good at that. He's good at proving himself under pressure.

Bonnie realizes that as painful as this whole ordeal has been, her eyes are the driest it's been this entire week.

"I can't wait for you to grow up. I don't have centuries to wait for you to care about my feelings."

Damon releases her so fast that she has to hold on to the doorframe to keep her balance.

"Why don't you just get it over with? Set me on fire." Damon nearly shouts, veins protruding from his neck, teeth bared like a caged dog. "Isn't that what this is leading to? I do something wrong and you punish me. It's the best foreplay there is."

"I'm going to go into the bathroom and I'm going to take a shower. When I come out, I don't want to see you. I'm still going to help you find your brother. I'm still going to be me, but I won't be policing you anymore. I'm tired of the job."

Bonnie closes the door to her bathroom without interruption. She runs the water as hot as she can stand.

* * *

Bonnie dreams are feverish and bloody. Faces she can't name lay lifeless.

Bonnie jerks awake and the nightmare doesn't feeling like it is over.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," Klaus delivers rather crisply.

He gives a slow sweep of her body, liking the way her heart seems to want to leap out of her chest with every beat.

"You're much more interesting than that Elena girl. Granted, she served her purpose, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. And my brother seemed to like her well enough," Klaus shrugs easily.

"How did you ―"

"Your father let me in. Nice gentleman, really. Although I don't think he likes your taste in boyfriends."

"Where's Stefan?"

Klaus stood so still for a moment, Bonnie wondered if he heard her at all. "He's much more suited for you. You both have this good clean shell outside but you're truly animals underneath. It's beautiful to watch."

"Where is he?," Bonnie persists.

"Does Elena miss him? Does she cry every night lamenting his return? Or is she off fucking his brother every chance she gets?"

Bonnie breath rushing out of her. She might not hurt him if she were to use her powers. She might just tire herself out and make him angry, "What do you want?"

"Now, that's the question you should be asking!," Klaus responds startlingly animated, "You've been a very busy witch. Poking your noise into other people's business, taking things that don't belong to you."

Realization dawns, "The book."

"That's right, darling. The book. Which is of no use to me because I no longer have a witch that is powerful enough to do anything with it. You're boyfriend, Damon made sure of that. Or is it ex-boyfriend?"

Klaus looks around her bedroom, a mixture of disdain and amusement at the surroundings.

"You have a whole town that would roast you if they knew what you were, and a father who practically ignores you. Your friends, if you could call them that, don't appreciate you."

"And you're different how?"

"I take care of people who take care of me."

Bonnie is too nervous to laugh at that statement, "Right. I'm not giving you the book."

"I figured," Klaus responds as he browses her perfume bottles. "You really can't stop me from taking it but I've found something infinitely more valuable."

Bonnie thinks of ways she can stall him, so she keeps him talking, "And what might that be?"

Klaus flashes a disturbing smile, "You."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: A sincere 'thank you' to the people who think that the stuff I write is actually good. I am inspired by your support.**

* * *

_Evil slips its face and you get a glimpse of something altogether different._

**Chapter Twelve**

"Hey," Elena says, standing in the doorway of Damon's bedroom.

That one greeting is loaded; the lightness that once existed between them has since dissipated into unrequited longing, and if all parties were to be honest, something sinister and perversely idealistic.

Damon senses that this conversation will not be run of the mill. Their conversations have become marred with ideal chit-chat or frantic discussions on the whereabouts of Stefan.

They never discussed sleeping together. They ignored the act as it the mere mention of it would make it all the more real.

"Can we not do this right now?," Damon asks, hoping for mercy from the one place he knew would give him a pass.

"Why didn't you tell me about you and Bonnie?," Elena continues, disregarding Damon's plea for peace.

Damon looks at her with sharp eyes, the kind that signals its prey and tracks every movement, "Would it have made any difference?"

He is being kind in his phrasing of the question. What he really means is: If we didn't give a damn about Stefan, would Bonnie have been the deciding factor?

"It was a mistake. Both of us made a mistake," Elena asserts.

A harsh look flashes across his face; it's quickly replaced by a guarded, cautious expression, "Stefan will forgive you because he's in love with you, and because he always knew that there was a possibility that he could lose you; you'd leave him, or you'd die. This is just a self-fulfilling prophecy for him."

Elena bows her head, the weight of his stare too much, "Damon, I love you. But it's not the same. I love Stefan so much."

Damon doesn't know how to respond to that. The redundancy in which she mentions her love for his brother grates at the nerves inside of him.

Why couldn't love keep them from being idiots?

* * *

"Why did you let Sophie live?," Klaus asks, as if the decision were Bonnie's alone, and Damon hadn't a thing to do with it. "You killed Tammy, but you let Sophie live. Why?"

Bonnie sat stunned and stilted on a private plane; fresh looking and clear-eyed by painfully tired. Accompanying her and Klaus were several other vampires who jumped at his every command.

He allowed her to dress for the occasion; he even allowed her to take a few spell books with her. It was his confidence that made it possible; Bonnie wouldn't find a spell strong enough to kill him, anyway.

"Sophie was innocent," Bonnie replies.

"Innocent. What does that even mean?," Klaus asks, the concept being foreign and the word, overused by so many humans.

"Innocent is when you live your life, and you try not to hurt anybody," Bonnie grappled for a definition she felt comfortable with. 'Devoid of any wrong doing' didn't seem correct, somehow.

What once seemed like bemused interest transformed into a blank mask. It was unnerving, the way in which he looked at her as if he could see right through her.

At Klaus' silence, Bonnie continues, "Innocence, you know. Children. Animals. I can't explain it to you if you don't remember what that looks like."

The abruptness of Klaus' mobility, how quickly he's out of his seat startles her. In seconds, he was close to her; if he were to embrace her, he needn't move very much. Bonnie fought the urge to put distance between them.

"I could have killed your father and made sure you had nothing to come back to."

She blinks and he's already on the other side of the plane, whispering to another vampire, undoubtedly issuing an order of some kind.

Bonnie knows that her father is alive and well. She knows that Klaus didn't make any sudden detours before visiting her, her friends are unharmed.

She tries not to cry as she arms herself with this knowledge.

* * *

"Bon, it's Caroline. Maybe we can hang out today, just the two of us. When you get this message, call me. Please." Standing outside of the Salvatore boardinghouse, Caroline leaves her fourth voice message.

It was not like Bonnie to ignore her calls.

When Caroline walks in, there's no one there to welcome her. She can't help but think that this house was so much warmer with Stefan in it.

Elena descends the stairs, carefully, as if she were to fall without holding on to the banister, "Have you heard from Bonnie yet?"

Caroline shakes her head. Saying it out loud makes the worry a living, breathing, tangible thing.

"This is all my fault," Elena states, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

She commences a rickety gait around the room, then gives up, landing heavily on the couch."This thing with Damon shouldn't have happened."

Unsure of a proper response, Caroline diverts her attention to other matters, "Where is Damon?"

"In his bedroom," Elena responds, distracted by her own thoughts.

Caroline nods solemnly, and heads in that direction.

"Do you think they'll ever forgive me?"

Caroline stops walking, wanting to provide Elena with comfort but not knowing how to do that.

She tries to put herself in Stefan's shoes; she thinks about how she would feel if her significant other were to sleep with her sibling.

She tries to put herself in Bonnie shoes; she thinks about how she would feel if her best friend slept with her boyfriend.

"It will be okay," Caroline settles on.

No matter what happens, they'll all be okay.

* * *

"What did you say to her?," Caroline starts in the minute she steps into Damon's bedroom. She wrinkles her nose at the pungent smell of an all-night alcoholic binge.

Damon was supposed to make up with Bonnie, not drive her further away.

"Well if it isn't Vampire Barbie," Damon announces, lukewarm with mild contempt.

Caroline frowns, "I don't understand how you can act this way. You are supposed to be the adult in a crisis. You're suppose to ―"

Damon's hand around her throat cuts off her statement.

Of all the power she has, she's amazed how easily she can be hurt, how the world is still dangerous for her.

"I'm not in the mood for another lecture." He let's her go as quickly as he's grabbed her.

Caroline gawks at Damon and wonders what she ever saw in him. She thinks maybe it was how visually stunning he is, how no one else had paid her attention in such a long time.

But he was just so mean to her. She never could figure out how he could have treated her so badly and not care.

"I've been trying to call Bonnie and she won't pick up. She wasn't home when I checked. I thought you would want to know, I thought because you love her you would..." Caroline trails off, self-conscious as only Damon can make her.

He looks at Caroline as if she had slapped him.

* * *

Plastering the most endearing plastic smile he could muster, Damon pretends to be the upstanding citizen he's not, "Hi, Mr. Bennett."

Mr. Bennett regards him coolly, and he doesn't invite him into his home. The porch is as far as he gets.

In small talk, Damon asks how Mr. Bennett is doing, how work is coming along, and he figures it's the least he can do.

"If you're looking for Bonnie, she's not here. She left with a friend," Her father says, tactfully putting an end to the bullshit.

"That's right. She was supposed to see Jeremy today," Damon simultaneously engaging wishful thinking and covering for the witch.

"No. Not Jeremy. Some new guy," Mr. Bennett responds, the scowl never leaving his face.

Damon wipes the ridiculous smile from his face, and asks in all seriousness, "Where did they go?"

The scowl slips, and it replaced by genuine confusion, "I don't know."

* * *

Bonnie welcomed the solid weight of Damon's frame with warm familiarity.

His fingers pluck at the straps of her nightgown, his lips following the curve of her shoulder.

"When are you going to let me have a taste," Damon asks, teeth nipping at the base of her throat.

The idea of letting Damon drink from her is equal parts repulsive and desirable.

"I don't want you to take too much," Bonnie manages, pulse wild with excitement.

"I won't," he promises, licking the throbbing vein, "Just one taste."

"Yes," the word barely out before Damon's teeth is sinking into the soft flesh of her neck.

Despite the initial gentleness; despite the suck and pull that makes her spine bow, a little, in pleasure, it's painful. "Stop. Please stop."

He lifts his head and whispers against her mouth, "You're as delicious as I imagined."

The wet tacky feel of her own blood against her lips forces her to open her eyes.

Klaus grins, "One more sample, love."

With a frighten scream caught in her throat, Bonnie twists from her seat like she's been electrocuted; her eyes flying open in the process.

"That was turning into such a delightful dream. It's a pity you woke up," Klaus remarks.

Slowly, Bonnie regains her composure. It felt like she's been on the plane for days instead of hours. She couldn't help but to have fallen asleep.

"You make the most interesting sounds when you're aroused." Klaus comments from the adjacent seat.

Bonnie's sure her facial expression matches the complete exasperation that she feels.

"Where are we going?" In hindsight, she should have asked this before their travel but she didn't see where she had much of a choice.

"You'll see when we arrive." More cryptic unyieldingness that extends itself to most of the things Klaus utters.

A moment passes.

"What do you see in Damon Salvatore?"

The question catches Bonnie off-guard, although she supposes she shouldn't be surprised anymore. "I don't see how that matters to you."

Klaus smiles a quiet, disarming smile and Bonnie wonders what he would have been like as a human.

He doesn't talk for a long while, and she isn't sure if she should bothered by his silence.

Finally, it seems as if they are ready to land, and Bonnie experiences overwhelming relief. She finds comforting that she doesn't have to suffer Klaus' undivided attention.

Another vampire takes it upon himself to help Bonnie out of her seat, only it's not helping. His hands are unnecessarily rough, his fingers leaving a brand around her arm that causes her to flinch.

Klaus breezes across her now standing form and the vampire who was handling her a moment ago is pinned against the interior of the plane, "Don't damage my property," is the only warning Klaus gives.

Klaus is too old of an entity to sneer, too old to make outward expressions of just how scary he is.

The "sorry" from the other vampire is automatic.

No one touches her after that.

* * *

"It's like he wants to take way everything that I love." It's a selfish thought, Elena is sure, but everyone seems to be in agreement.

Jeremy tries to get Elena to drink the tea that's quickly turning cold in her cup. It shakes slightly in her hand.

She would have thought she understood what a nervous breakdown felt like but it seems she continues to experience new heights of heartache.

In the Salvatore living room, the remaining links in her life gather around.

Caroline's never felt so useless in her life. She keeps thinking that she should have invited Bonnie over to her house, she should have kept an eye on her, she should have protected her more.

Alaric stares at Damon, who is too still and too calm which surely a sign that there is a beast raging somewhere within.

"What are we going to do?," Jeremy voices. He has made up his mind that he is going to do whatever he has to do but he needs direction, he needs someone to tell him how he can make everything alright again.

" 'We're' not going to do anything. I'm going to find them and you are going to stay here," Damon responds with a finality that brokers no arguments.

"I'm coming with you," Elena states, getting up from her chair.

Damon thinks before speaking to her. "You would slow me down," it's the gentlest thing he can say in this situation. He couldn't tell her that she's too much of a mess to be of any aid to him.

"Elena, let Damon go. Alone." Jeremy insists.

"Where will you start?" Alaric asks.

"I'll follow the last lead we had and move on from there."

"Be discreet," Caroline urges, figuring she should add something to the conversation.

Damon gives a curt nod, "I'll call when I have anything."

* * *

After getting off the plane, they drive someplace and Bonnie looks out of the windows hoping that she'll recognize something.

It's an exercise in futility considering the fact that she hasn't traveled outside of the United States very often. Maybe once, she's visited her cousin in Canada.

The car stops in front of a mansion, and Klaus looks at her like she should be impressed.

She pays no mind to the interior of the place, too concerned with ways she can save her own life.

"What do you want from me?," Bonnie asks, although the answer to his question wouldn't make any real difference.

She is suddenly angry at her lack of choice in the matter, at how she has to do what Klaus' says or someone she cares about will be in danger. Perhaps she should feel lucky that he hasn't felt the need to compel her yet.

It's only a matter of time.

"Damon will come here. He will try to save you, he will try to save his brother, and he will fail."

Bonnie becomes alert at the mention of the younger Salvatore.

"It's nice of you to join us. I was beginning to think you would sulk forever. I brought you another gift to perk you right up," Klaus' attention directed behind Bonnie.

She turns around, already the guessing the new presence in the room.

Stefan takes one look at Bonnie and pales like he's seen a ghost.

He looks surprisingly well. He almost seems like the Stefan from Mystic Falls. She doesn't know how, but she can tell there is something off about him.

It's his eyes; he looks as if he's seen too much, and worse, it looks as if he's been responsible for the atrocities.

"You promised me," he states, approaching Klaus, choosing to discount Bonnie's presence. It's a specter in front of him, an apparition. She has to be back home with the others. She has to be safe where Elena is, where Damon is.

Otherwise, his sacrifice is faulty and insignificant.

"No, I promised that I wouldn't do any harm to Elena and her little friends. Look at her, she's perfectly fine. Not a scratch."

Stefan appears as if he's thought of something truly violent. But it's just a thought. Anything he could think of doing to Klaus could not compare to the absolutely horrid things Klaus has done to others.

And Klaus, pleased with himself beyond belief, comments "We're one big happy family now."


	13. Chapter 13

_I have to break you because you are no use to me otherwise__._

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Belfast, Northern Ireland United Kingdom**

"Burn in hell," the vampire spits out, regardless of the stake planted in the middle of his chest.

Damon twists the stake deeper. He is sure he is rupturing a bunch of undead arteries and capillaries with the action.

"Let's try this again. Where's Klaus?"

The vampire who is being subjected to the torment gasps, sputtering curses and downright insults, all of which were probably true of the older Salvatore but that wasn't what he wanted to hear at the moment.

Damon ponders the vampire's fate; he wonders if the vampire currently under his violent subjugation had any idea that he was going to be murdered in the back room of his own pub.

"Try again. Where's Klaus?" Damon states as he crushes the other's sternum under his knee.

The vampire releases a dog-like whine that only serves to inflame Damon more. "I don't know," the vampire wheezes out.

Damon sighs, peeved at how pitiful his fellow vampire brethren seems, "Tell me who does know where he is."

"There's a witch in Coleraine. S-she's not very powerful. He used to bed her."

As a 'thank you' for the pertinent information, the stake descends straight through to the other side of the vampire's body.

The vampire twitches on the ground, a last 'fuck you' to his torturer.

Damon tracks the vampire's ashes under he's boots clear across the bar's newly polished floors.

* * *

**Ayr, South Ayrshire United Kingdom **

The first day had been uneventful. She rarely saw Stefan through the time period, and when she did, he seemed dazed and unreachable, or entirely too intimidating to approach.

The following morning was met with common-place dread.

The one bright spot is the shower she has this morning; it feels wonderful, the hot spray melting her tense muscles. She lingers under the water as long as she can.

Fresh off of exiting the bathroom, Bonnie wraps a towel around herself, and contemplates Klaus.

Bonnie figures that it is a bit like contemplating a tiger's next move: you know it will probably be painful and fatal to you, and you instantly regret feeding the animal when the sign clearly warned against it.

A vampire comes in, Michael she thinks his name is, and throws a pair of black jeans and a sleeveless black shirt on the bed, "Klaus wants you to wear this for practice." Bonnie doesn't react to the word "practice" and she does her best not to wonder what that might actually entail.

Attempting sarcasm, Bonnie states, "I don't usually wear such bright colors."

Michael doesn't crack a smile and he leaves shortly after he's done Klaus' bidding with his arms stuck to his sides like a soldier.

After dressing she comes downstairs into the large living-space, catching the tail-end of a conversation. Her stomach cramps with apprehension.

Both Stefan and Klaus must have noticed her entry into the room, but Klaus continues on: "...they never appreciated your strength, Stefan. They wanted you to stay mild, weak, ineffectual. I can't imagine being so...neutered."

"It was my choice," Stefan insists. He wasn't about to let Klaus convince him that his years of abstaining from human blood was a mistake.

"You are not like other vampires. And now, you no longer have to pretend you are. I freed you."

Stefan looks like he wants to argue but thinks the better of it. He hunches, a little, a sure sign he's closing in on himself.

Bonnie wonders how many times they have talked about this particular subject.

Bonnie sits in front of Stefan and they have a conversation with their eyes. She tries to convey that everything is okay in Mystic Falls, and he tries to convey how sorry he is that they are in this situation in the first place.

Klaus turns his attention to Bonnie and gave her a rather gallant smile.

It occurred to her that their predicament amuses him, the fact that they thought they could get out of this alive was laughable.

Bonnie didn't owe Klaus anything, she didn't make a bargain with the devil that she needed to keep her end to.

Klaus came into her home, her bedroom. He handpicked her for the game he is playing.

"There shouldn't be any secrets among us. Whatever it is you're dying to say to each other, you might as well have at it out in the open."

Stefan frowns, his whole face a painting of displeasure as if to say 'can we not have even the illusion of privacy.'

"How is Damon?" Stefan asks, a rough quality to his voice like it hurt to talk about his brother.

"And here I thought you would first ask about Elena," Klaus comments, his grin taking on a shark-like appearance.

"He's fine," Bonnie responds.

"He was more than fine at one point of our departure, Stefan. Please ask about Elena," Klaus urges.

With a sharp turn of his head, Stefan looks directly at Klaus. He can't believe a creature like _him_ is actually allowed to walk among the living.

His gaze shifts to Bonnie, but it's fleeting. Stefan was having trouble meeting her eyes.

"How is she?," Stefan asks, staring at a spot on the floor.

"She's not so good." Taking note of Stefan's stricken expression, Bonnie quickly amends, "physically, she's fine. But she misses you ―"

"You don't have to lie to him," Klaus interrupts.

"I'm not lying," Bonnie asserts.

Klaus ignores her, "Stefan, you and I both know that Elena is young, and her concept of loyalty is faulty, at best. I know you love her, but your love for her is misplaced. So is the love for your brother. Do you really think he would have sacrificed himself for you?"

Bonnie answers for Stefan. "Yes. He would have." If not for the fact that Damon has a really crazy streak, where he's likely to do anything to protect the people he cares about.

"Who are you trying to convince ― me or yourself? Or maybe Stefan? You know, he's been such a good boy. Nothing but mass murders on this end. He won't even look at another woman. Unless, of course, she's his next meal. Such are the faithful..." Klaus notes, with a wistful lit to his voice.

* * *

**Coleraine, Northern Ireland United Kingdom**

Damon stalks the witch for a full day, following her throughout her mundane habits.

He instantly hates her and her stupid little charms that would do nothing more than give a supernatural entity a mild allergic reaction.

He hates how comfortable she seems and he thinks about how Bonnie is the exact opposite: always on guard, always expecting something to go wrong.

He is perplexed with the possibility that someone as underwhelming as she could capture Klaus' attention.

He bumps into her at a market, flashes an impressive smile and offers to help her carry her bags to her car.

She loves his assimilated-American, easygoing attitude, and he thinks that this whole thing should be more difficult than it is.

He feels like a mugger when he slams her bony shoulders against the painted metal of her car. He hates the color: green, like puke.

He threatens her until she's crying. He bullies her until she forgets what spells to use in case of emergencies.

He smirks at her when the aneurysm she attempts to give him makes him feel like he wants to sneeze.

His cruelty is justified. It's always justified.

He can say he did it for love.

That separates him from the monsters, doesn't it?

* * *

**Ayr, South Ayrshire United Kingdom **

Bonnie tours the mansion with disinterest.

Annoyed and disheartened, she returns to the room she and Stefan where earlier that day.

She happens upon a disturbing scene. Klaus sits with a calm, almost serene expression on his face.

Stefan's standing. A delicate Blonde woman in his arms. He cradles her to him like a lover. The woman in question seems anything but afraid. Her life was slipping right through her fingers, and she seems to be in ecstasy. The lure of a Salvatore is strong.

"Stefan likes to play with his food. He likes them to run around, and scream, and when he catches them, he rips out they're pretty little throats," Klaus narrates.

At the description, Stefan gives a full-bodied shudder that had nothing to do with disgust.

She slides from his grip, landing with a thud on the floor. Her neck is only connected to her body by a piece of skin that's left intact, the surround area all but devoured.

"He's such a messy eater," Klaus smiles at Stefan like he's proud of what he has created.

Stefan doesn't wipe his mouth. He looks high, with shiny, vibrant eyes. He licks at his lips like he's still hungry, like he could eat again in a second.

He's truly a bottomless pit.

Other vampires pile into the room, one picking up what is left of the dead woman. Some Bonnie recognizes from the plane ride and some she's never seen before now.

"Forgive me, I got distracted," Klaus announces to the vampires joining them.

He rifles through the items on a nearby table, and when he's found what he wanted, he walks over to Stefan and places a stake in Stefan's hand.

Still looking at Stefan, Klaus commands, "Bonnie, I want you to choose one of these fine specimens."

Bonnie should ask Klaus' intent of this exercise but she complies. She doesn't know most of their names, so she picks the Blonde man closest to Klaus.

Klaus smiles at the choice and turns to the vampire in question, "Your job is to take Stefan down."

The vampire smirks, arrogant and sure. He rams himself into Stefan.

They struggle. It's one of those futile struggles where strength matches strength and no one gives an inch.

The vampire is surprised. He expected Stefan to go down easily, especially when fighting an older vampire.

Stefan's hands are a blur, and the stake comes with a vicious twist that makes the vampire sway like he's dancing as his body crumbles to the ground.

Stefan looks at his hands, ash spilling through his fingers.

Klaus nods, "Bonnie, pick another one. And this time, Stefan, don't be so nice about it."

The next vampire she picks looks startlingly like Damon, but harder edged. Her subconscious must be working against her.

This fight is quicker, and it seems as if the vampire is no match for Stefan's cumulated years of pent-up anger.

Stefan runs his fingers through the vampire's hair, almost lovingly as he plunges the stake in.

Klaus grins at the display, and turns his attention to the other vampires in the room, "Try to subdue him," Klaus orders. The term 'subdue' sounding dangerous.

It takes five vampires to hold Stefan securely, and even then it's a strain.

"My blood has done wonders for him. Then again, Stefan's a natural hunter."

Klaus looks at Bonnie in a curious manner, "Your turn. I'll pick. Michael, attack her."

Michael's on her and she's mad that she got fair warning but is not ready.

She thinks about the best way to tame a vampire. She tries mind stunning and she tries aneurysms. Although Michael is in pain, he still has her in his grip.

She ups the ante, a push of power that sends him half way across the room.

He lands on his feet, more than a little pissed off. She hits him with her power again, not giving him a chance to rebound.

The force of her power makes him writhers on the floor shrieking in agony.

"Good. But he's not dead," Klaus comments from the sidelines.

She focuses all of her energy and it's nearly half a minute before Michael suddenly burst into flames.

She drops to her knees, dizzy and nauseous. Klaus' lone claps are the only sounds that register. "That was very good."

Klaus runs his hand over the curve of her mouth, fingers coming away red and slick , "We have to do something about that persistent nose-bleed of yours."

He makes some vague gesture to the other vampires who seem perturbed by today's events.

"I feel like going out. We'll take a little stroll into town." Klaus suggests, demonstrating that he has the attention span of a two year old.

Later, Bonnie finds the room that Stefan is occupying.

She watches him for a moment as he stares at the ceiling. She enters the room and presses a piece of paper into his hands.

We have to get out of here, it reads.

Stefan shakes his head, "He'll find us and he'll kill us."

"We have to do something," Bonnie whispers.

Stefan takes both of her hands in his, "Damon is going to be here pretty soon. Klaus to me."

"What do we do?," Bonnie says aloud, no longer caring if Klaus can hear her.

With an expression that Bonnie cannot quiet place, Stefan replies, "We have to show solidarity."


	14. Chapter 14

_Drag me back into myself _

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Ayr, South Ayrshire United Kingdom **

Klaus holds his slashed open wrist against Bonnie's mouth and there are only two options available to her: she can be brave and refuse his offering, let his flesh and blood against her mouth smother her and put her out of her current misery; or she can drink deeply, complying like Stefan had only a moment ago.

Stefan didn't seem to think the act of drinking from Klaus unpleasant, and was rather gluttonous.

The fact that she had two choices did nothing to assuage the idea that the aforementioned choices were terrible.

Bonnie chose to let the bitter blood slide down her throat because any other recourse at the moment seemed impossible.

More than once, Bonnie was curious about Klaus not using compulsion. She was grateful. But she can't help thinking that it would be easier for Klaus to control them in that way. There lies a hundred percent guarantee that Bonnie and Stefan would follow his orders.

As it stands, Bonnie and Stefan are forced to comply regardless. The imminent threat of hurting the people they loved kept them in line as surely as any compulsion.

She tries to talk to Stefan again when they are alone, but all he does is take her gently by the arms and murmurs, his voices soothing while rubbing circles into her skin.

Bonnie should be calmed by the action, but her heart picks up into a full throttle gallop. For the first time in a long time, she is scared of Stefan.

It's his unpredictability. It's not knowing where he stands, not knowing what's going on in his head.

She doesn't mention Elena's name. She doesn't mention Damon. She's not sure how he were to react if she did.

Klaus sends the other vampires away. In that big empty house, there's only Klaus and his reluctant guests.

* * *

Damon walks in like he owns the place, like this is not some sort of suicide mission.

He's expecting a legion of vampire fiends sworn to protect Klaus till the end of their existence.

Reality is anti-climatic at its best.

Klaus doesn't need anyone to help him take out Damon, but Damon would like the illusion that he is a hard kill, that you better bring an army when dealing with the older Salvatore.

They stare at each other: Klaus, a portrait of serenity that Damon is very close to smashing into pieces.

"You're foolhardy. And despite your best efforts, quiet emotional," Klaus states, an incredible knack for reading people in the same way a psychic gazes at a palm.

"Where are they?" Damon has a sudden memory of the last time he was in a similar situation, the last time he played hero to a captured Stefan.

Klaus smiles, his focus not on Damon but behind him.

Damon turns around to face his brother and a clearly distressed Bonnie Bennett.

For some reason, Damon expected Stefan to be in worse condition than he really is. He pictured a snarling, roaring mess of a man.

Stefan should be falling apart.

Damon turns his attention back to Klaus, "You just made this a whole lot easier."

He launches himself towards Klaus, the stake hiding on his person, now in his hand.

Damon feels the impact at his back before he can truly comprehend what's going on. Stefan intercepting his attack was not in the game plan.

He chalks it up to Stefan being confused and pushes his brother away from him only to have his face meet Stefan fist in a spectacular punch.

Before Damon can ask what the hell is going on, another punch lands across his face.

'This is bullshit,' Damon thinks, 'this is utter bullshit.'

Damon rights himself and decides that getting Stefan to calm the hell down is his first priority.

Bonnie summons power, determined to stop the madness that's happening in front of her.

"If you interrupt, I will kill them both," Klaus assures.

Her body crackles with unleashed energy and anger at her inability to interfere.

Before Klaus left town with Stefan in tow, Damon would like to think that he and his brother were pretty much equal in strength, especially since Stefan had been slowly introducing himself to human blood via Elena.

Stefan is much more difficult to take down, and Damon briefly wonders how this will all end. His thoughts are interrupted when he is thrown into a wall and the stake he was going to kill Klaus with is firmly planted in the middle of his body.

Damon is more than a little shocked at Stefan's blank face, his hand still connected to the buried stake. He's more than a little shocked when he slides down the wall.

Stefan runs a hand in the hair at the back of Damon neck. "Stay down," Stefan whispers, and Damon's pretty sure that's all he can do at this point. Stay down, and watch Stefan's shoes as he steps across Damon's prone body.

"You've waited so long for this, I can't blame you for wanting to draw it out," Klaus comments.

Stefan walks over to where Klaus is standing and stops in front of him, "I want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to..." Stefan trails off, seemingly at a lost for words.

He steps closer to Klaus, reaching out. He hugs the other vampire to him, and if Klaus is surprised, he doesn't show it. Klaus returns the embrace, today's events seeming like a victory.

Klaus doesn't see the look Stefan gives to Bonnie. He doesn't see Bonnie levitate a spare stake and send it straight towards his heart. He thinks nothing of Stefan's hold momentarily tightening to keep him still for the assault.

Klaus collapses, laughing. Laughing and then screaming at the force of Bonnie's power as she afflicts pain, his body feeling as if it's on fire.

Stefan removes the stake from his brother's body. Damon gets up, still stunned and a little shaken. He stares at Stefan for a moment before inquiring, "What are we going to do him?," gesturing towards Klaus.

"We take him to the basement."

Bonnie's never been to the basement, and she doesn't know what's in there but Stefan seems to think it is the best place to put Klaus.

Damon and Stefan act as pallbearers as they carry a stupefied Klaus to the designated location. The basement in question looks more like a torture chamber.

Bonnie doesn't have to guess the reason Klaus keeps a space like this.

Stefan picks up heavy chains and restrains Klaus' body with it, wrapping it tight around his wrists, ankles, and neck.

Stefan grabs a batch wolfsbane with his bare hands, and uses his shirt as a barrier between his other hand and the batch of vervain he takes as well.

Klaus holds in his screams for a full minute before the searing pain is just too much.

Damon snorts at the display, "He was always better at torture than I was."

Neither Bonnie nor Damon further comment about Stefan's familiarity with the process. They both ignore how steady Stefan's hands are as he torments Klaus.

After, Stefan, Bonnie, and Damon leave Klaus' dwelling. They pile into a car and Damon refuses to reveal the way in which he acquired it.

No matter how far they get from the house, Bonnie can still hear Klaus' screams.

* * *

**Mystic Falls, Virginia**

Stefan steps into his own home and when the heartfelt recognition that he's out of Klaus' grubby little hands doesn't register, Damon is worried.

A huge part of Damon wanted for Stefan to detox away from home, thinking he could send Bonnie ahead, and stick it out with his brother.

Bonnie insisted that getting home as quickly as possible was the best idea.

Stefan didn't stir at the tempting scent of human blood on the flight home. Damon broke his vow of silence and decides to play big brother for once, "Are you okay?," he asked.

Stefan looked at Damon as if seeing him for the first time and responded, "I'm fine."

Damon didn't believe him.

It's only when they were leaving one flight for a connecting one that Damon realized that the lovely flight attendant who promised them a wonderful experience was missing.

Her body was discovered in the bathroom. If this were any other setting, the police would rule it an animal attack, but as it stands, animals can't buy plane tickets.

Elena, hearing the trio enter the boardinghouse, runs and leaps into Stefan's arms. The only words in her mouth is his name.

Elena climbs unto Stefan; her embrace is so thorough, her nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, his neck; wanting a piece of his DNA to keep forever.

Stefan seems to return to himself then; he crushes her to him, his own hands rough, smelling her hair.

There's a moment of normalcy before Stefan pushes her away.

"Stefan," Elena calls out, perplexed. He gives her a dark look in response.

Damon stands between Elena and Stefan sensing that something has changed.

Before anyone can move, Bonnie uses her powers to bring Stefan under control. Bonnie feels good when she releases power, not sick and weak like she normally would.

It's Caroline who comes out of nowhere to stab Stefan with a vervain injection.

Elena watches as Damon and Caroline drag Stefan off, their reunion soured.

* * *

Bonnie had planed to stick around only as long as it takes to make sure Stefan is okay.

She's headed out the door before Damon stops her, his body blocking her exit.

"Are you seriously trying to sneak out of here?," Damon asks.

"Damon, I'm tired. I want to go home."

"Stay here," Damon suggests.

"Damon, I ―"

"Stay. I won't bother you."

Bonnie gives him a look like she wants to protest but she doubts Damon will let her leave anyway. She turns away, heading for the stairs.

"Bonnie," Damon calls behind her.

She doesn't turn around to face him, but she answers, "What?"

"I'm glad you're back." Damon mentally berates himself for not saying something more meaningful.

"Me too," she agrees in a whisper.

* * *

Bonnie picks an unoccupied room and settles in.

She removes her clothes. She showers, she tries to rub off the past few days, wishing that there was some kind of magical white-out she could use.

She comes out to find her night-clothing on the bed. She recognizes the items as being something she must have left in Damon's room.

The thought makes her sad.

She dresses, and picks at a fingernail that can't decide whether to break or not. When it does make up its mind, the nail takes some of her skin along with it.

Bonnie curses, eyeing the blood welling up. She curses again when she goes into the bathroom and discovers the Salvatores do not have band-aids.

She uses a piece of toilet tissue to dab at the blood.

She's lying in bed when she notices a prickling sensation. Her first thought is how it would be just her luck to get an infection from her broken nail.

Bonnie glances at her finger and frowns when she sees her nail starting to grow back.


	15. Chapter 15

_Things will never be the same but maybe we can make something new._

**Chapter Fifteen**

"...it's like, I thought I was dreaming when I saw Anna and Vicki. But I wasn't. They were right in front of me," Jeremy confides.

A rapt Bonnie nods in camaraderie. She is familiar with discovering something beyond what was once seen as a normal, everyday life. Bonnie can remember having the same awestruck disbelief at finding out she was a witch.

Abandoning the empty Gilbert residence, Jeremy had come over to check on Elena and see how she was doing now that Stefan and Bonnie had returned home.

He ate the breakfast that Damon cooked for him, despite the fact that it was very likely for the vampire to poison him.

Setting on the bed that Bonnie had occupied for the night and talking to her felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He didn't have many people to talk to; not when all attention was placed on things that are clearly more important.

But Bonnie took the time to talk to him regardless of the mayhem. If Jeremy was to be honest, he would admit that he still loved that about her.

"I can only imagine what you must feel," Bonnie responds, placing a hand on Jeremy's broad shoulder. "It's okay to be afraid. But get it all out now because you would hate for your Ex-girlfriend's of Christmas past to use it against you," she adds, laughing.

Jeremy joins in on the laughter, feeling lighter than he had in days.

Outside of the room, Damon stood with a cup of coffee in his hand. He listened as Bonnie and Jeremy talked to each other, the softness of their tones conveying the respect and love that each held for the other.

It was sickening. It made the coffee go cold in his hands. Their closeness made his stomach turn.

A peculiar feeling washes over Bonnie and suddenly, she knew with absolute certainty that Damon Salvatore was somewhere close by.

"Are you going to stand out there all day or are you going to come in?," Bonnie calls out.

Jeremy frowns, looking around the room, "Who are you talking to?"

Bonnie quirks a lip and waits a beat.

Damon pokes his head in the doorway, then eases the rest of his body into view, a sheepish look on his face, "Hi," teeth bared in a grimace masquerading as a smile.

Jeremy chooses the noble path, already getting up from the bed, "I'll leave you two alone."

Jeremy brushes past Damon. They make eye contact. It's brief and devoid of hostility.

Somehow, Boy Wonder has grown on him. Damon bristles at the thought.

Damon allows himself to look at Bonnie. He tries to figure out what it is he feels. Relieved, maybe, that she's here in front of him. Sadness; there was a time when he had the option of touching her and holding her to him, of kissing her.

Between them, silence exists where it hasn't before but it wasn't uneasy or uncomfortable.

When they do speak, it's at the same time; the words jumbling together, the meanings lost in consonant and vowel confusion.

"You go first. What were you going to say?," Bonnie says.

Damon sits on the bed, acutely weary and unsure of himself.

"Did you sleep okay?" Its lame, he knows. He's sure he used to be cooler than he is at the moment.

"I slept fine," Bonnie answers, and it's true. After the strange occurrence of her broken nail growing back, she found herself exhausted. The anxiety and racing thoughts that would normally accompany a weird event were absent.

Damon makes a face like he's not particularly concerned one way or another. He retreats into the old habit of nonchalance, trying desperately to shrug off the effect that she's having on him.

"How is Stefan?," Bonnie asks, the change of subject giving them something to focus on besides themselves.

"He's quiet. Self-reflective. Probably, crucifying himself for losing control," Damon answers, lazily.

However, he wasn't certain of this. Stefan seems different. The stench of self-pity and self-loathing is not present like it would be in similar situations.

"I can't stop thinking about Klaus," Bonnie admits. "He's going to come after us."

He will, no one doubts the fact.

"I thought Stefan was going to kill me," Damon says out of the blue, needing to voice the constant refrain in his head, "I thought. 'He saved my life and now he's going to kill me.' I couldn't think of anyone else to do the honor."

After a pause, Damon adds, "He knows about Elena... about what happened between us."

Bonnie sighs, "Klaus filled his head with a lot of things. I couldn't dispute some of it even if I tried."

"He asked me if we used his bed," Damon states, averting his eyes as he says it.

Bonnie rubs her hands against her jeans, wanting to make Damon feel better, "I didn't get a chance to thank you. You didn't have to come for us. You had this house, you had Elena. You could have just lived your life."

"I didn't have you. And as much as Stefan is a pain in my ass, I couldn't leave him."

Knowing that the inevitable was coming, Bonnie says, "It won't work between us. You and I. It just won't work."

Damon smirks, "You have trust issues and I'm a lying, cheating bastard. What else is new?" He drops the issue because he is in no mood to be told that he has not a chance in hell of getting Bonnie back.

Instead, he shifts the conversation, "How did you know I was outside your room? I was doing my best lurking."

"I just sort of...felt you. I've been feeling a lot of things lately."

"What things?"

"I broke a nail and it grew back," Bonnie begins.

Damon nods, a bored expression plastered on his face.

"Within a few seconds," she continues.

Damon raises an eyebrow.

* * *

There was something unbearable to Elena that upon Stefan's return, she couldn't sleep next to him.

She stares at him, a heavy door separating them and a little window being her only assurance that he is really home.

"Let me out of here," Stefan says abruptly, his voice scratchy from disuse.

She's not sure she's heard him correctly, "I don't understand," Elena responds with a shake of her head, "You want me to let you out?"

Stefan bows his head and then pins her with one look, an expression that she's never saw on his face before.

"Elena, you know I don't belong in here."

Stefan gets up from where he's sitting; the long, lean lines of his body an amazing sight after being apart from him for so long.

He walks towards her until he is close enough to press his face against the window.

"Elena," he says again, and the sound of it makes her breathless.

"If you loved me, you'll let me out."

There is promise in his tone, a certainty that letting him out is the only thing that makes sense.

Elena reaches for the locks before she can fully comprehend what she is doing.

In an instant, Damon grabs her elbow and moves her from the cell, "What are you doing?," his question is directed at his brother.

Stefan doesn't exactly glare at him. "I'm hungry," Stefan states, his face blank but with an undercurrent of amusement.

"I'll send Caroline in with something for you," Damon replies.

Damon turns to Elena, annoyed that she even thought about letting Stefan out so soon, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just..." She looks at Stefan again, her eyes unable to focus on anything else.

"You should get some rest. You've been here the whole night," Damon suggests.

Elena looks at Damon as if she forgot he was standing next to her.

* * *

Caroline brings him a fox, opting to bring him the whole animal instead of bottling it up.

She comes inside, the door cricking open, and when Stefan doesn't rush past her towards freedom, Caroline breaths a sigh of relief.

She knows she should leave but she's so glad to have her friend back, "Um, I could stay here with you for a little while," she offers.

Stefan ignores the animal, pulling her into his arms. He runs his fingers through her hair as she mumbles into his chest about how much she has missed him, how it was difficult to talk to anybody else regarding "vampire stuff."

Stefan pulls back to cradle Caroline's face in his hands, thumbs rubbing at the tears that escaped from her eyes. A wane smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

Stefan kisses her on the cheek, slow and deliberate; his soft lips a caress that turn harder the closer he gets to her mouth. He stops short of kissing her there.

Caroline gazes at him wonderingly, some feeling she refuses to put a name to tightening low in her stomach.

It feels so intimate to Caroline, his touch. She feels like she may fall without him holding her up.

Stefan looks into her eyes, "Bring me something else," he tells her.

She knows what he means without saying it out loud.

Caroline gets into her car without thinking. She passes people that she thinks Stefan would enjoy eating and it isn't until she approaches a young woman that she realizes what she is doing.

* * *

"Something is wrong with Stefan," Caroline announces.

Damon sighs at the obviousness of Caroline's statement, "Of course something's wrong. He went on a bender. He has what I imagine to be one hell of a hang over. Killing sprees take a lot out of you."

"No. What I meant is that he's not himself. Elena, you know what I mean." Caroline implores to her friend.

Elena agrees, "Caroline's right. He's different."

Bonnie adds to the discussion with her own observations, "I'm different too. My powers feel stronger, my senses are sharper, and apparently I can regenerate skin, hair ―"

"We did a little experiment upstairs," Damon says, winking to the exasperated audience that has convened in the Salvatore living room.

"It's Klaus' blood. It explains why Stefan's personality has changed, why he's so ...tricky. It explains why Bonnie healed so quickly, why she feels stronger," Alaric informs.

"What do we do about it?," Jeremy asks, not liking the idea of Klaus' blood flowing though Bonnie's body.

Damon answers, "We let it run it's course. What else can we do?," a rhetoric question not meant to be challenged.

"How long will it last?," Elena asks.

Alaric looks at Damon for a response, he being the oldest one of two vampires in the room.

"I don't know," Damon shrugs, "A few days. Maybe a week. I had witches' blood in my system for something like fourteen days, once. Vampire's blood is more potent, especially someone like Klaus."

"We can not keep Stefan locked up for two weeks," Elena asserts.

"What would speed up the process?," Alaric asks.

"Replacing it with some other blood, diluting it somehow," Damon guesses.

"Stefan doesn't like the animals that I bring him," Caroline confides, "He wants human blood. I almost brought him someone."

"Why in the world would you do that?" Damon squints, upset at Caroline's stupidity.

"I don't know! He wanted it. I couldn't resist. It's like I was compelled or something."

"The same thing happened to me," Elena commiserates, "I haven't had vervain in my system for a while, so I was easy. But Caroline's a vampire?"

"Klaus was able to compel other vampires," Bonnie reminds everyone.

Damon paces the room, thinking out loud, "Stef will get hungry soon. He'll have no choice but to drink animal blood."

"I don't know if that's going to be strong enough to undermine Klaus' influence," Alaric offers.

"I'll give him my blood," Elena volunteers.

"It's too dangerous," Damon dismisses with a shake of his head.

Elena argues, "He's drank from me before. He's always managed to stop himself from hurting me."

"But he's not the same," Jeremy states.

"He still loves me. He wouldn't hurt me," Elena responds, standing firm in her belief.

"I'll wait nearby if something goes wrong," Caroline suggests.

Everyone seemed to be appeased by the idea.

"Bonnie, what about you?," Jeremy asks.

"I'll give her my blood," Damon states, as if any other option is ridiculous.

"I'm not drinking blood from you," Bonnie responds.

"Bonnie," Elena says, frowning at her decision.

"No, Elena. I'll wait it out. Besides, how is drinking from Damon any better than Klaus?"

"You drank Stefan's blood once. You didn't have many lasting effects," Elena suggests.

Damon states with his gaze trained on the witch, "You are going to drinking from me whether you like it or not."

He leaves the room shortly after, as if it is a dead issue and everything has been set in stone.

"He sure is a stubborn bastard," Alaric laughs hardily, only stopping when no one follows suit.

* * *

Caroline and Elena argued for some time about whether or not it was a good idea to let Stefan out, or if Elena come inside instead.

Caroline doesn't want to let him out and in the end, Elena agrees.

Stefan hasn't moved from the makeshift bench, "Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?" Stefan states, looking straight at her.

Elena feels tears forming in her eyes, "I'm sorry," the apology is immediate and heartfelt.

"You're sorry," Stefan laughs a little, "Was he better than me? Did he make you come quicker?"

"Stefan, please," Elena shuts her eyes, pulling at her hair,

"How long have you thought it? My brother. You know, I always believed it was one-sided but obviously I was very stupid."

"I love you. Stefan, I love you." Elena gets on her knees in front of him where he sits; she presses her palms into his face, her fingers over his jaw, "I love you." Elena will never be able to explain why she sought solace in Damon's arms. She's not sure she even understands it. But she knows that she loves Stefan.

"You were the only thing I've ever wanted," Stefan says, his voice breaking a little.

He runs his fingers through her dark hair. His hand tightens, arching her neck in the process.

"Stefan," Elena gasps, worried.

Caroline appears at the window, ready at the sound of Elena's alarm.

"Stay out," He commands of a startled Caroline.

Elena's eyes widen. "Stefan don't do this."

"But didn't you come here to feed me. Backing out of a promise so soon."

He Bites her then, the soft give of her neck feeling like something glorious under his teeth. It's savoring little sips, but his roughness scares her.

When Elena starts to feel dizzy, he stops; her blood running down his chin. He pushes her away from him.

He won't respond as she calls his name.

* * *

Damon's lying on her bed when Bonnie comes out of the bathroom from her shower.

She takes one look at Damon's boots planted on the bed sheets, "You're enjoying this way too much."

Damon's eye brighten with the prospect, "Maybe a little."

Bonnie clutches the towel around her tighter, "Could you turn around, please. I have to get dressed."

"No you don't," is his only response.

"Damon ―"

"I've already seen everything."

Bonnie pauses, her argument stuck in her throat, "For the record, I don't agree with this."

"Dully noted," Damon responds as he takes off his shirt. Bonnie makes a sound of protest.

"I don't want to get blood on it," Damon reasons, biting into his wrist a second later.

The blood is red and vivid, and Bonnie is so close to bolting out of the room.

"Come on," Damon entices, "It's good for you."

Bonnie steps close to him, placing his wrist to her mouth in a most begrudging manner.

When Bonnie's mouth closes around the wound, Damon inhales, not needing the air but taking it in anyway.

She sucks at the blood, tongue laving over the ripped skin, blunt teeth trying to open it all up again.

Damon gently removes his wrist, "You want more?," he asks, already knowing the answer to the question.

Bonnie runs her fingers over her lips as Damon repeats the action of biting his wrist.

She presses her mouth to his temporarily ruined skin, her eyes locked with Damon's.

One tug, her towel is off pooling at her feet, and Bonnie can't seem to care.

Damon brings her mouth to his, licking the remnants of his own blood from the corners of her lips. He kisses her deeper, his tongue demanding access.

It's a blur: one moment she's standing, and the next, she's lying under a very naked Damon Salvatore.

Bonnie knows she should put a stop to this. It will not change anything. She'll still be hurt and he'll still be the one who caused the pain.

But his hands and his lips feel as if he's trying to make it up to her.

He kisses down her body, stopping to press his face against her breast, then nipping a lower trail over her stomach. He rests between her legs.

Bonnie jumps as his mouth presses over her. "I missed this," he mumbles against her flesh, taking one long lick from top to bottom.

"Damon..." she beings, unable to finish her statement.

He ignores her silent plea, and reacquaints himself with her body. He licks and sucks until she is throbbing under his mouth.

His lips are wet and shiny when he comes back up and he wastes no time pulling her against him and on top of him.

Damon watches as she slides over him, the hot and slick feel of her causing his fingers to tighten around her hips.

He doesn't give her time to adjust because patience was never his virtue. He thrusts up steadily, using her hips to guide her body.

Her nails pierce his chest as shocked sounds exploded from her mouth.

He brings her down to him. Kissing her open mouth, panting against her face. He feels her fluttering around him and he follows her, chasing his pleasure.

After, Bonnie finds herself tangling her legs along his. Damon's big, open smile makes her chest constrict.

She's doused with cold water at the reality of her situation. She moves out of his hold, "I can't do this."

Damon blinks, instantly closed and guarded.

"Us sleeping together doesn't change anything, Damon."

He puts on his pants, shrugs into his shirt, "You're right. It doesn't."


	16. Chapter 16

_It is as if the whole world knows that I am nothing, if not hopeless, without you._

**Chapter Sixteen**

"You can't still want me," Stefan says, as he watches Elena pull her shirt over her head.

His delirium had worn off; the thought that he might as well take over the world with the power he has had dulled.

The only thoughts that did remain are the bloodshed, the number of bodies who have lost their lives under his will. The strength had gone out of his body, the single-mindedness to kill and destroy nothing if not a nightmare.

"How can you look at me and not see a monster?," Stefan asks, bereft with newly-rought self disgust rolling over him in waves.

Elena pulls down the sleeve of her shirt; it's too warm for it but it is the best way to cover up the bite marks along her wrist, and high under her collarbone.

The sun shines directly on Stefan from the open window. She looks at his trembling rosebud mouth, and his green watery eyes.

She takes into consideration how over the past few days, as Klaus' blood seeped out of his system, Stefan has tried desperately to slip back into his skin.

"I love you," she responds, so simply, like love is the answer to everything.

It's the last thing he wants to hear. "You shouldn't," is what he says, "you're not safe around me," he urges.

He wishes he could shake some sense into her, he wishes he could wakeup that part of her that is prudent and alert.

"I'm not safe anywhere else but with you," Elena responds.

Stefan shakes his head in denial. He hunches over like he can't quite deal with himself.

This boy, so young and so old, whose saving grace is the fact that after brutal carnage done by his hands, he has a conscience.

Elena shifts her attention to his bedroom: his book, his journals, and his keepsakes from years and years.

"I'm not an idiot. If... If it were anyone else, the things you've done would make me hate you. But I can't. I can't hate you."

She'll come to him tonight.

She'll let him cry against her, his wet eyelashes fluttering between her breasts.

She'll let him scrape his teeth along her skin.

She'll kiss her own blood from his mouth.

Because she loves him.

Because she needs him.

* * *

Damon has woken up alone many times during his long life. This morning is no detour from the usual.

He was always shocked and pleasantly surprised when there would be a supple body near him (breathing or not). He could count the number of woman with one hand that he has mused about the possibility of forever wishing to turn over to in any bed, in any location.

He realized that he is lonely, and not in a way he had been previously.

There is the loneliness that comes from outliving the people he knows. There is the loneliness that comes from losing contact with Stefan: the only other person whose existence is cursed, whose blood is of his blood, whose last name is the same as his.

But Damon can find company if he wanted to. He can find lust and desire, and a girl who wanted to give him the gift of her body.

He never had a problem in that department.

Damon Salvatore is in love with a girl who actually might care about him.

He will admit that there have been other occasions of harsh reality where he's found out, akin to a rug being pulled from under his feet, that the woman he loves doesn't return his feelings with the same intensity.

But Bonnie wants him just like he wants her, it is undeniable.

He squandered it on the off chance that Elena would want him with the same voracity.

He was wrong.

What was it that Bonnie had said? That she wanted to be good to him? Damon couldn't picture Katherine following through on such a feat. It is not in her nature.

He couldn't imagine Elena following through either. He isn't Stefan.

Damon is conscious of the fact that he has not a clue as to what healthy love is. All of his relationships have had a kind of dysfunctional element about them; it's strange to think of love as good and clean.

Love is violent.

It is dangerous. Love make's one's heart claw its way out of a chest. The feeling of wanting to simultaneously kiss and kill is unmatchable.

As it stands, love was always Damon's reason to indulge in irrational behavior.

Perhaps, he can change his definition of love. With the right girl, anything is possible.

* * *

Bonnie answered her door on the second knock.

"Elena," Bonnie said, a bit astonished to see her friend.

"I know that it is disgustingly early but I was hoping we could talk," Elena suggests, a smile on her face that doesn't reach her eyes.

Bonnie invites Elena in, leading her to the kitchen.

"Do you want some coffee?," Bonnie asks.

"That would be great, thanks. Did your dad leave for work already?" As Elena falls back on small talk, she marvels at how far it is she and Bonnie have grown apart.

"Yep. It's just me this morning."

A pause shoved its way into the conversation; Bonnie fixing the coffee: the sugar and the milk just like Elena takes it; and Elena, picking at the knuckles of her fingers.

"Is this about Stefan?" Bonnie assumes.

"No. It's about us, Bon."

Bonnie hands Elena the coffee, the expression on her face is what she hopes conveys neutrality, even pleasantness.

"I used to care about so many other things," Elena begins, "I used to...just know when either you or Caroline were hurting. I'm sorry about Damon. I'm sorry that I've been so self-obsessed that I didn't think about your feelings."

"It's forgotten," Bonnie gracefully reassures.

"Is it? I let a guy come between us."

"You didn't know we started seeing each other again," Bonnie reasons, the supreme apologist.

"That's my point! I just closed my eyes to everything, I had this idea that Damon would be there for me when I need him and I didn't think about what he needed. I didn't think about what he wanted."

"He wants you," Bonnie answers, routine, like a Pavlov response.

"Do you believe that I love Stefan?" Elena asks, the question seemingly irrelevant to the discussion.

"I know that you love Stefan."

"Okay," Elena says with a nod, "But I slept with Damon. Shouldn't that mean that I don't love Stefan," Elena states, putting the thought that was on everyone's minds into the forefront.

"Are you asking me or telling me?," Bonnie responds, sharp. She's astounded at her own acerbic manner.

"Isn't that what you thought? 'How could Elena hurt someone that she supposedly loves?' I wouldn't be surprised if you thought I was a bitch, that I'm no different than Katherine."

Bonnie won't pretend that she, at some point, didn't have those ideas."What do you want me to say to you?"

"I want you to admit that you are mad at me. I want you to admit that I hurt you."

"I was mad at you but I have moved past it."

Elena mulled over Bonnie's statement. "You don't have to be soft on me."

"You don't need me to beat you up for it. You've done enough of that for both of us. But if you want me to be honest with you, then fine. This is not about the mistakes you made. This is not about you, at least anymore. You were the last straw in a relationship that had no future."

"Regardless of what Damon and I did, he loves you."

Bonnie responds with an impatient sigh.

"Bon, he does. I guess the point I was trying to make was that just because you love someone doesn't mean that you won't hurt them, sometimes. I just...I don't want you to give up."

* * *

Damon feels like shit.

It is not everyday that one's mistress goes to beg one's pardon to an ex-girlfriend. Not that Elena was ever his mistress.

She was a formally unattainable goal that became accessible during a time of crisis and strife. He loved Elena, but his love for her wasn't as boundless and all-consuming as he really thought it would be.

Now, he wondered what her motivation was, if any, in advising him to make amends with Bonnie.

"She's still upset about it. She's trying not to be but she is," Elena asserts.

"There is nothing that I can do."

It's a lie, of course. But short of chopping his own ear off and mailing it to her, he was fresh out of ways to say sorry.

"I've already apologized."

Elena grimaces, "You have to do more than apologize. You have to tell her you love her."

Damon offers a painful grin, squinting like Elena is too bright for his eyes, "Why are you so sure of what I feel?"

"You're right. I'm sorry. Bonnie doesn't mean anything to you. You used her like you have everyone else: Rose, Andie. Bonnie should be so lucky she escaped easily."

"Your match-making skills are for shit, and you are not going to goad me into doing anything but throwing you out of my window."

"You go after the things that you know are going to make you unhappy. And the things that actually mean something to you, you let it die. Damon, please."

It is ironic. The last thing Elena wanted him to do with a please stamped on the end was to find Stefan. The second to last thing Elena wanted him to do with a please stamped on the end was to make love to her.

"It's not safe to be in my room, Elena. _Things_ might happen," Damon taunts.

Elena flushes red, the reason being anger or embarrassment. Perhaps both.

"I may be the wrong person to be telling you this―"

"You're damn right?," Damon interrupts.

"But," Elena, continues, "Stefan is not in any shape to do it right now. It's up to me."

Damon's face hardens at the prospect of Elena pitying him, "Well thank you for your concern."

* * *

Yesterday, Damon was willing to jump through hoops to _make _Bonnie forgive him. Today, the last vestiges of his bachelorhood propels him into action.

As a result, Damon tries to bed a strange, beautiful girl who looks nothing like Bonnie.

His tongue is in her mouth and his hand is up her shirt before he realizes that he feels nothing.

No arousal. No desire (however superficial). Nothing.

He untangles himself from the girl and for the first time, considers her age. He supposes statutory rape is never a genuine concern for vampires.

"What's wrong?," she huffs, breath sweetly sour with alcohol.

"Nothing is wrong." He grabs her and kisses her. He's repulsed instead of turned on.

"Why do you keep stopping?," She asks, when his hands cease all lascivious fumbling once again.

"Because you disgust me," Damon answers under his breath.

"What?"

"Because you're so lovely," Damon responds, louder and friendlier.

"Oh. That's nice," the girl gushes as runs her hands over his thighs and stops between his legs.

Still, absolutely nothing.

"You know, my last boyfriend suffered with the same problem."

"I don't have a problem," Damon says ripe with indignation.

"It's okay. You don't have to be ashamed of being impotent," the girl lowering her voice on the last word.

Damon stares at her for a full minute before kicking her out. She's fortunate, really.

He could have fed her to his brother.

* * *

"Are you drunk?," it's what Bonnie asks when she sees Damon in her bedroom.

She vows to herself that she will one day meet a nice, normal boy who couldn't break into her home at the slightest convenience.

She knows, as soon as the notion is fully formed, that this is a pipe-dream.

"No. I'm not drunk."

Bonnie eyes narrow in skepticism.

"Okay, okay. I had one little drink," Damon admits, demonstrating how miniscule the beverage was with his fingers.

"Unless there is an emergency, you shouldn't be here."

"I thought we were friends," Damon deduces, if only for the fact that she hasn't done him bodily harm in a while.

"Were we ever friends? And before you answer that, I mean real friends, with respect and honesty."

"I respect you," Damon states.

"Really. You respect me." Bonnie repeats like it's something distasteful.

"I do. I respect you. I respect you more than I respect myself."

Bonnie regards the comment with close consideration. "That's actually saying something."

"I didn't come here to argue with you," Damon sighs with defeat.

"And here I thought fighting was your favorite pastime," Bonnie responds with faux cheeriness.

"Would you just shut up and listen to me," Damon nearly shouts. He is eternally acquiescent to the role of

Drama King.

"Look, I know there is no way I can take back what happened with Elena. But I appreciate the fact that you cared about me.

"You came here to tell me that?"

Damon's mouth twitches in nervousness, "It's a big deal."

"You are welcome. I guess."

"That's it?," Damon frowns, expecting a warmer reaction.

"I'm glad my loving you made you feel better about yourself," Bonnie says in all sincerity.

"You love me?"

Bonnie realizes that she's never told him face to face. It didn't seem necessary. Everyone seemed to know, anyway.

"Don't run screaming from the room, but yes, I loved you. I was in love with you."

"Loved," Damon repeats, focusing on the past tense, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's mortifying, falling in love with someone who you know can't return your feelings. I felt stupid. No matter what Elena says, you are still in love with her."

"I'm not in love with her."

Bonnie stares at her bedroom wall as he says it, already disconcerted by her previous concession.

"Look at me," Damon urges, and continues when Bonnie's eyes are on him, "I'm not in love with her."

Bonnie breaths deeply, hating herself for being relieved. "Okay. So, you're not in love with her."

It occurred to Damon that there are many people among them who know exactly what he feels for Bonnie; they can describe, in great detail, the ache and longing that fell upon him whenever he was near the witch.

Elena, Stefan, Caroline, Alaric, even Jeremy. No, these people were not imbeciles_. _They read it as clearly as if it were stamped on his skin, a constant reminder of emotions reserved for nights that left Damon sleepless, with a headache pounding in his skull from trying to suppress them.

'You love her,' they tell him; 'You care for her,' they tell him. They put voice to the feelings he can not speak for himself.

He'd feel silly if he were to say that he shakes, a little, with how much he wants her.

He'd feel foolish if he were to tell her that the worst circumstances are only made bearable because she is near him.

She inspires this serial ruthlessness that makes him want to destroy everything in his wake ― because he can't have her, because he doesn't deserve her.

It is inconceivable the lengths that he has gone to ruin other people's lives, the lengths that he has gone to ruin his own life.

And Bonnie is the only one is years, in decades, who has made him want to fix it, who has made him feel more than cold remorse about it.

He can't tell her this. He's not sure he could ever tell her this, in any case, with such sentimentality.

Even if she never accepts him in her life again, even if these are the last words spoken to her about the epic, glorious, beautiful train wreck that was _them_, he will make one admission.

"I'm in love with you," Damon says, "And I will probably be in love with you for a very long time."

He says it with tears blurring his vision and sweat clogging his palms.

He says it without the safety net of being able to compel her into forgetting.

"Why are you saying this to me?," Bonnie asks, her mouth gaping and unhappy, as if he were being unspeakably cruel to her.

"Because it's true. And I've never sad it to you before. I have something with you that I can't find anywhere, no matter how hard I look."

Bonnie turns away, ignoring him as if she hadn't heard his declaration. Her expression smoothes into something that denotes a resigned fate.

Damon awakens a dead part of her that would have otherwise settled for an unsatisfying averageness.

He makes it okay for her to embrace hunger, to feel uncomplicated greediness.

She could kiss as many boys in as much time allotted and she doesn't think she could experience one-third of the exhilaration she feels when Damon just looks at her.

In utter candor, she says, "Sometimes, you act as if you don't care about me at all. And I believe it because it is what you show me. When you tell me this now, when I've convinced myself that you mean more to me than I will ever mean to you―" She stops and presses her lips together, sure that she is going to cry, sure that she will weep like a chastised child, "You have to be ready. You can't make _big_ mistakes anymore."

It's a statement but Damon takes it as a question: Was he prepared?

Damon places his hands on her shoulders, and he can feel her vibrating. He can smell the soft scent of her hair, he can sense the rushing of her blood through veins that can't possibly hold the strain.

He doesn't turn her around to face him because he hasn't earned the right to witness such vulnerability. Not yet.

"I'm ready," he whispers so only she can hear it.

* * *

**Rockport, West Virginia.**

"Can I help you with something young man?"

The man was an altruist to a fault. He got out of his car to help the man who seemed to be lost.

The young man in question smiles, mirth in his eyes visible through his fair eyelashes, "Yes. I was wondering if you could tell me the whereabouts of the nearest gas station."

"That's five miles up ahead," he responds, stabbing a meaty finger north, "You can't miss it."

The man stalls, feeling as if he should go to his car, immediately, like his gut was warning him to do, "Do you, uh, need assistance with anything else? You look tired," the portly Good Samaritan asks.

"Nothing that a little blood won't cure."

The older man's smile slips. He runs to his own car, tripping over his feet, glasses once perched on the tip of his nose falling off to crash to the ground, a lens shattering instantly.

He's apprehended easily, the scream lost in a gurgling tide of crimson.

His eyes widen and his last thought is that he'll never get to eat the roast beef his wife is preparing tonight.

Once finished with his meal, the man's murderer dabs daintily at his lips. He looks up to the fading sun.

Klaus adjusts his jacket and heads back to his car.

He'll be in Mystic Falls by dinnertime.

He'll be in Bonnie Bennett's bedroom before the night is over.

**END**

* * *

**Author's Note: I cannot tell you how much I've enjoyed writing this story. I cannot express to all of you the delight I feel at reading your reviews. You guys are honest and kind, and seem to care about the things I am trying to portray. I am thankful for your support.**

**In addition, I am open to suggestions for story ideas so if anyone is interested in a storyline, plot etc., please feel free to share. **


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